


In My Arms Lies Eternity

by swankyturnip76



Series: What Pride Had Wrought [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Positive, Anders Works to Reverse Tranquility, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Cullen/Lavellen Mentioned, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fenris Works to Abolish Slavery, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I tagged this as multi-pairings but it mostly focuses on fenders, Injury Recovery, M/M, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, POV Third Person, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pro-Mage, Slavery, Slow Build, Takes place in Tevinter, Tevinter Imperium, multi-chapter, part of a series, the first few chapters only feature fenris and anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swankyturnip76/pseuds/swankyturnip76
Summary: Fenris has become Second-In-Command of the Inquisition's Forces and leader of the Tevinter Slave Rebellion. When he is gravely injured on the battlefield, he is taken to Thekla Clinic, an esteemed and oddly new Tevinter hospital led by the mysterious Doctor Crowfeather. Fenris immediately realizes this 'Crowfeather' is the same escaped apostate who sought asylum in Tevinter after blowing up the Kirkwall Chantry. As Fenris recovers, the two realize that their paths must join once again in order for justice to prevail. This multi-chapter work is part of a series that takes place in what I would imagine to be the events of Dragon Age 4. Characters will be added as I progress and it is a slow-build Fenders fic.





	1. Healing Would Be Welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> This story required a lot of research into Tevinter culture and life which will shine through further into the story. Many of the characters tagged in this story are only in mention for the first few chapters - they will make actual appearances as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy it, this is my first ever Dragon Age fic.

The first thing he felt upon slowly regaining consciousness was the gentle pulsing of healing magic coursing through his body. The lyrium imbued in his skin amplified the effect. He could taste the metallic scent of lyrium mixed with bitter elfroot in the air. Other herbs, such as rashvine and blood lotus, teased his senses. Bright lights pricked at his eyelids and he refused to open them. The sound of hushed voices reached his ears, but he could not make out their words. He turned his head slightly towards the sound, but a surge of pain through his skull caused him to groan out and stop all movement. The elfroot and healing magic weren’t curing him fast enough of his ailments. He felt the healing magic shift focus and clear his head of the throbbing. Slowly, Fenris opened his eyes.

The bright lighting caused him to see stars for a moment, and he had to blink several times before the scene in front of him came into focus. He was in some sort of hospital room in a magnificently clean facility. The floors, from what he could make out with his limited range of vision, were marvelously polished. The walls were impeccably tiled, and there were no cobwebs or leaking spots in the ceiling. Over twenty bright lanterns danced their ember flames along the outline of the room. The bed he lay on was comfortable, not poking or prodding him like past medical mattresses had.  His armor hung neatly on a rack against the wall – it had been freshly cleaned and shined. No trace of blood anywhere to be found. Fenris himself wore a clean white tunic that was made of something not too distant from silk and a pair of loose pants.

Panic filled him and he struggled to sit up. If he had been captured by the Magisterium...if the slave armies had fallen...

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and a familiar feminine voice whispered softly, "You are safe, Lieutenant-Commander Fenris. You are in the Thekla Clinic of Tevinter. Only the Inquisitor and Spymaster Harding know you are here. You are safe from enemy forces and it is good to see you again."

Fenris turned his head toward the voice and saw a young nurse standing above him. Her blonde locks were perfectly wound in a tight bun on top of her hair. Though the years had passed, she had barely aged at all.

Orana...the elven slave Hawke had rescued and taken in as a paid servant.

Fenris's expression must have shown his confusion at seeing her here, in Tevinter, and not in Kirkwall with Hawke. She smiled softly at him and replied to his unasked question, "Doctor Crowfeather here was kind enough to take me in and teach me medicine. I comfort the sick and bring fresh clothes to those who have none. I was the one who changed you. Doctor Crowfeather thought it would be best if someone familiar to you did it rather than one of the other nurses." A faint blush covered her features and Fenris felt the back of his neck prickle. That had meant that she had seen the markings...something very few were privileged to see. Still, he supposed this Doctor Crowfeather had been right - had it been anyone other than Orana who had undressed him, Fenris probably would have ripped out their heart. Nakedness was not something the leader of the slave rebellion was prone to let others experience of him.

Fenris turned his head and tried to make out the details of the attending doctor in mention. Fenris saw the lanky form weathered by years on the run. He saw the hair, darkened to more of a strawberry shade than the past strawberry-blonde he had known, secured in a tight ponytail. He saw the typical garments of a doctor worn over an emerald tunic and black trousers with _Thekla Clinic_ emblazoned in silver on the breast pocket. His eyes met the doctor's and they shared a heavy moment of acknowledgement. 

“Hello Fenris. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Fenris had heard through the grapevine that Anders had sought asylum in Tevinter following the Kirkwall Chantry's explosion, but he had not fully believed the stories. That had been in part because Fenris had not  _wanted_ to imagine Anders kneeling before the Magisterium, begging them to take him in. Now, Fenris had no choice but to believe the stories as Anders poured his healing magic into Fenris, never actually lowering his hands enough to touch Fenris directly. 

Fenris didn’t reply to Anders's introduction. Instead he hoped that the weary expression in his eyes would betray his thoughts. Evidently it worked, because Anders let out a hollow chuckle.

“Still weary of magic after all these years? Although, I guess it’s understandable, especially given your situation. I'd be weary too in a land surrounded by the one thing I hated. Still, Second-In-Command to the Inquisition's Forces _and_ leader of the Tevinter Slave Rebellion? You’ve done pretty well for yourself, haven’t you?”

Anders was teasing him, that much was obvious, but there was also an unsettling tinge of pride in his voice as he regarded Fenris. Fenris remembered that Anders had been adverse to slavery...perhaps he considered Fenris's mission a valiant one. Anders moved his hand over Fenris’s stomach, never actually touching the warrior’s skin, but letting his healing magic travel the distance between them.

“Your lung and liver were both punctured and you took a few bad gashes against your back. I’ve managed to patch up most of the damage but you will need plenty of time to heal and fully recover. As Orana here pointed out, both Spymaster Harding and the Inquisitor know of your presence here. It was Spymaster Harding herself who had her agents carry you here swiftly as soon as you were gravely injured. Your troops did not see your body leave the field - Harding's people are good like that. As far as your troops know, you are in your tent back out there. Harding and the Inquisitor were to pass along the information to Commander Cullen. I…well I don’t think he would have wanted to hear anything from _me_ , hmm?”

The bitterness in the doctor’s voice was evident and it caused Fenris to retake in the man’s demeanor. Anders was stiff and though he wore a professional smile on his face, his eyes clearly betrayed his pain and exhaustion. Healing Fenris for this long should have sapped him entirely of his strength. Yet miraculously, Anders was able to keep up the flow of healing with minimal evident discomfort. His resolve was impressive.

Anders' words caused Fenris to think back on his own situation. When Fenris had joined forces with the Inquisition in an effort to end slavery in Tevinter, he had of course been reintroduced to Cullen Rutherford. Since Fenris _had_ fought alongside Hawke in Kirkwall during the uprising against the templars, there was some bad blood between them. But they had managed to talk it out and Fenris had learned that Cullen was a changed man. He no longer held as deep of a resentment toward mages as he had in the past. The fact that the Inquisitor herself's a Dalish mage helped bring him around with time during the days of Corypheus. While Cullen was nowhere as near to fighting for the rights of mages as Anders and the Inquisitor, he _was_ much more tolerant and understanding now than he had ever been. Fenris had quickly proved himself in battle, and Cullen had been impressed with his strength and prowess. It hadn't taken long for Fenris to be promoted to second-in-command as Lieutenant-Commander. The two had developed a mutual respect for one another and trusted each other.

Fenris tilted his head slightly as he considered Anders before him. It was understandable that despite Cullen’s growth over the past few years, he would still harness hatred for the man who killed many members of the Kirkwall Chantry. Fenris couldn’t help but internally smirk. For two men who had such opposing views, Cullen and Anders were certainly equally devoted to their individual beliefs.

Anders let out a small sigh and sat back, momentarily cutting off the healing process. Yet there was enough magic and elfroot in him that Fenris could still feel it pulsing through him, working to finish the repairs to his body.

“That’s all I can do for now, I’m afraid. Your body needs time to heal and fix itself. I’ll check on your wounds later on and apply more magic if needed. If you need anything else, Orana will be right outside.”

Anders stood up and moved to leave the room, but a thought made him pause at the foot of Fenris’s bed. Turning to look back at the warrior, Anders said, “I meant what I said when I told you that nobody who would hurt you knows of your current location. You are safe here, despite this being a Tevinter establishment. Your room will constantly be guarded and no one except myself and Orana are permitted entry...not even members of the Magisterium. Also, I am...sorry...that I could not ask you for your permission first before using magic to save you. I remember how you feel strongly about it, and I assure you that had the situation been less dire, I would have asked your permission first. But if I had taken that kind of time, you would be dead now. I…you should know that.”

The appreciation nagged at Fenris as he struggled to say something. The fact that Anders _had_ remembered, even after all of these years, that Fenris didn’t like being healed unless he asked for it was generous. Fenris simply tilted his head, demonstrating to Anders that he had heard his words, and Anders gave a curt nod in reply.

“Right, well, you need rest. You can ask me any questions you have later, after your lung has had time to heal more and you can talk regularly. You’re safe here and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Fenris hadn't expected the genuine honesty that pooled out of Anders’s mouth and the fierce look in his eyes made Fenris believe his words. He wasn’t sure _why_ Anders was taking such precautions to protect him or _why_ the mage was being so caring to him, but it was appreciated. Fenris figured he would ask such questions later after his lung had indeed healed up enough to give him air to talk.

Anders left without a second look back and Orana quickly followed him. His level of professionalism was understandable but also made Fenris slightly more weary than he had been before. Anders had always been expressive about _everything_ and his stoic manner now made Fenris on edge. Of course Fenris had a thousand questions rearing through his mind - how had Spymaster Harding known to take him here to where Anders was, how did she know Anders would help him, why was Anders being so nice and helping him, was he truly safe here, what was the status of his forces, and how long would it take to recover? Fenris internally sighed and rested his head back against his pillow. He and Anders had never been ‘buddies’ in any sense of the word, but they had developed _somewhat_ of a mutual respect for one another before Anders blew up the Chantry. True, their relationship had always been rocky at best, and Fenris really wasn't sure where they stood now that so much time had passed. But the doctor’s proclamation that he would keep Fenris safe and the look in his eyes kept flashing through Fenris’s mind.

He would just have to wait and see.

 


	2. You Carry The Day, That's What Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So by now you will probably have noticed that chapter titles come from Fenris or Anders quotes from DA2. Also, for the sake of plot, let's pretend that Fenris was there for the Tranquil mission you had to complete to recruit Anders. Also, I'm not sure how many of you reading this have written stories with characters whose names end in 's' but it is really obnoxious to show ownership. So if I switch between "Fenris's" and "Fenris'" and it gets too annoying, just tell me which one you prefer. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a long one! And thank you all for your kind kudos and words as always.

Four days went by until Anders checked in on Fenris again. The warrior had been visited by Orana at least three times a day during the four days of Anders’s absence. She checked his vitals, asked him how he was feeling, administered more elfroot, and updated him on the situation with the Inquisition. Commander Cullen had moved the army Fenris had been commanding to rejoin two other units not too far away from their previous location. This way Cullen could take the lead and command all three units without Fenris. Murmurings of why nobody had seen Fenris had begun to travel throughout the units, but Cullen kept them fighting diligently so that there hadn’t been much time to sit down and gossip or fret. Plus Spymaster Harding made sure her agents in the ranks quickly quelled any suspicions with reassurance. It wouldn’t last long though, and Fenris knew he needed to return quickly.

Orana had given him letters sent by Cullen, Harding, and the Inquisitor. They all wished him a speedy recovery, mentioned they were happy to hear he was alive, and updated him further on events. The current plan was to continue recruiting slaves off of farming areas or small towns to help build the army. Once they had assembled as many slave fighters as possible, they were to take the fight to the heart of the problem: Minrathous. While the Inquisitor used her influence to gather troops in Fereldan and Orlais, Cullen and Fenris worked to gather slave recruits in Tevinter. It was not an easy task, as many masters were understandably not eager to part with their slaves. The battles were almost always bloody and more often than not ended with more than one Tevinter slave-owner being killed. The war with the Qunari had in fact weakened much of Tevinter’s will to fight two wars at once. While many masters directed their attention at the Qunari threat on their territory or in Seheron, it was easy for Harding to sneak in her agents and steal away slaves that were left behind or unguarded. The process was a slow one and only a thousand or so slaves had joined the Inquisition so far. What baffled Fenris’s mind most of all was that some slaves they had encountered didn’t _want_ to leave their masters. Regardless of whether or not the slaves were manipulated into staying with their masters, Fenris could not understand the concept of _wanting_ to remain as someone’s property. It was true that many of the slaves they had encountered had not been physically or emotionally abused as Fenris and so many others had. Some even had decent living quarters and were respected by their masters! But no matter how great their situation seemed, they were still _slaves_. Fenris didn’t understand it.

Fenris spent much of those four days strategizing and planning. Orana had brought him maps sent by the Inquisitor and Cullen about troop movements and where they were heading next. Fenris consulted the charts and offered his suggestions through the letters he sent back. Having been familiar with much of the territory covered by the maps, Fenris was able to often offer insight into the terrain and supplies that the armies would need to survive the harsh landscape. The one pro of having lived with a powerful magister was that Danarius had often traveled to keep favor with members of the Magisterium. Not all of them lived in Minrathous, despite popular belief, and Fenris saw much of Tevinter on his travels with his master.

He found himself writing the most to Spymaster Harding. When he had first met the dwarf, she had been only a legionnaire scout for the Inquisition. When Corypheus was defeated and a new foe stood in the Inquisition’s way, she was promoted to replace Leliana. Fenris found her amenable. She was extremely intelligent and crafty, yet caring and heroic as well. She worked hard to keep her people safe while simultaneously being a fierce force to be reckoned with. The rumor was that she was nowhere near as ‘cruel’ or ‘ambitious’ as some had claimed Leliana to be in the same position…especially towards her ending years in the Inquisition’s service. When Fenris had first joined, Harding had taken the greatest amount of time out of anyone to make him feel welcome. Harding reminded Fenris of Hawke in many ways, and he had developed a great amount of respect for her in the relatively short time they were acquainted. 

In her latest letter, the one he had received on the morning Anders would visit him, Fenris read the single question she posed him many times over.

_What is Doctor Crowfeather like?_

Surely she had heard of what had happened in Kirkwall. She knew the doctor’s real identity and had known Anders would take Fenris in for treatment without a second thought. Fenris had so many questions he wanted to ask her in person, but he wasn’t sure when the next opportunity would present itself. Therefore, her simple question asking him what the notorious mage who had blown up the Kirkwall Chantry and ‘started’ the Mage Rebellion was like caught him off guard. In many ways the question was so simple but yet so complex. Harding could have asked him when they were in Skyhold together what Anders was like – why was she asking him now? Although, it wasn’t like his association with Anders had ever been a topic of conversation before. In fact, the only one who had asked him about what Kirkwall life had been like for him was the Inquisitor. Although Fenris figured that was more to make sure he and Varric, who had been leaving Skyhold for Kirkwall when he had shown up, wouldn’t have it out in the courtyard. The Inquisitor had told him of her adventures with Hawke and how impressed she had been with the Champion of Kirkwall…Fenris wasn’t surprised at all. Hawke was a force that captured the hearts and attention of all around – it had made perfect sense to Fenris when he had learned that Hawke and Varric were to basically run Kirkwall together. Hawke and Varric were two natural-born leaders. Kirkwall would recover and be just fine with them at the helm.

Fenris blinked and his gaze returned to Harding’s question.

_What is Doctor Crowfeather like?_ Well, what _was_ Doctor Crowfeather like? The years had passed between them, and while fragments of Anders’s past personality and life had drifted into their one-sided conversation on their first day of meeting, Fenris wasn’t sure what was the same about the mage. When they had known one another during their years in Kirkwall, Anders and Fenris had always been at each others throats. Their conversations had almost always been a battle of wits, each trying desperately to make the other see their side of things. Yet in the end, when it was time for that final battle between Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino’s armies, the two had defended and fought alongside Hawke to end things. They had gone their different ways after that, Anders fleeing for his life and Fenris off to fight slavers, but Fenris had thought that by the end of their years in Kirkwall together they had reached somewhat of an understanding. They could disagree on literally every belief under the sun, but the one thing they _had_ agreed upon was that no one should suffer injustice through abuse of power by magic. Their agreement had never been verbally solidified, but it _was_ the common belief they had realized they shared through their incessant banters throughout the years in Kirkwall. There was a part of Fenris that would forever be hesitant around magic and its use, and there was a part of Anders…a very _large_ part of Anders, that would always be supportive of the freedom of mages. That was where they had more or less left off when they parted ways after Kirkwall.

_Now_ , however, Fenris didn’t know if Anders was the same man. Was he more or less passionate about mage rights? Had Tevinter been kind to him and given him the freedom he had longed for throughout his years in Fereldan? Did he still have Justice controlling his actions and causing him to lose control? Had he in fact bowed down to the Magisterium? Just what _were_ his ties to the Senate?

Fenris had pondered these questions over the past few days, occasionally contemplating asking Orana when she came to check on him. Orana had known both of them when she had served Hawke in Kirkwall – hell, Fenris and Anders had both been there with Hawke when Orana had been rescued. Surely she would be able to answer Harding’s question better than he.

Fenris picked up a quill and after giving the question another last-minute thought, he wrote back, _I am not really sure._ And it was truthful, he figured. He wasn’t really sure _what_ this new Anders was like or if he was anything like the Anders of his past. Fenris quickly added, _I will let you know once I know more._ Sealing the letter, he called for Orana to take it from him. Just as she left the room, Anders appeared in the doorway.

“So sorry to have kept you waiting for the past few days. Things have been...rather hectic here. Not that the Lieutenant-Commander of the Inquisition isn’t a top priority around here. Maker forbid we cause you to feel unimportant.”

Fenris took in the doctor’s appearance as he moved deeper into the room. His words had brought a smirk to his face, but his eyes looked distant. Fenris remembered the look from when Anders would often have conversations in his head with Justice, or when Anders would be contemplating about the plight of mages. The doctor was distracted. Immediately Fenris tensed, his eyes quickly flitting to the wall where his armor hung neatly. If Anders was on edge then that was cause for him to be on edge. His situation was not ideal, and if they were to be attacked right then and there, Fenris would not be as agile as usual.

Anders must have noticed Fenris tense up because he let out a small sigh as he pulled up a chair beside Fenris’s bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

Fenris backtracked and realized that Anders must have thought he tensed up because of the doctor’s earlier introduction. Fenris tilted his head slightly in confusion and replied, “You didn’t.”

It was the first time he had spoken in several days and it showed. His usually deep and smooth voice was scratchy and hoarse. When he had asked Orana questions, he had always written them down for her to read. (Hawke and Anders had both taught her how.) His own literacy skills had increased somewhat as he had taken the time after the years in Kirkwall to really learn. Harding had helped him and with her patient teaching style, Fenris had just added another notch to the list of reasons why he liked her.

Fenris cleared his throat and looked steadily at his armor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anders consider him oddly, trying to gauge Fenris’s thoughts. Anders followed the warrior’s line of vision and it must have clicked in his head.

“Oh, you’re worried about someone storming in here with an army of magisters, huh?”

“It only takes _one_ magister to make my situation worse at a time like this.”

Anders bit his lip and the motion caused Fenris to slightly shift his head back towards the mage. Usually Anders was quick to run his mouth – his silence unsettled Fenris.

“What is it?”

“It is nothing,” Anders said quickly. “Or at least, it has nothing to do with you. You are safe here, Fenris. I know it doesn’t feel like it and you probably won’t be able to actually feel safe for a long time, but you have my word that no _magister_ – or anyone for that matter – is getting into this room to hurt you. You are under my protection and I know that given our…past discrepancies, that probably isn’t the most comforting thing to hear right now. But I _will_ protect you.”

“Why?” the honest curiosity in Fenris’s voice surprised even him. He had expected it to come out harsh and judgmental, but it had come out soft. Not unlike a child asking a parent why people die. Apparently the tone caught Anders unaware as well and his surprised gaze met Fenris’s.

“Well…for one, if Hawke knew I let you die then _I’d_ be dead. And I still have a lot of work to do in this world,” Anders replied only half-joking as he fumbled around with some healing herbs. “Second, both the Inquisition and the slaves in Tevinter need you and your devotion to the cause to help. For many you have become a beacon of hope and who would I be to allow any harm to come to such a beacon?” Anders mixed some elfroot in with other herbs in a vial. "Plus I'm in charge of this place. Every person here is under my watch." He used his magic to heat up the concoction and held it out to Fenris to take. “It’s a regeneration potion. It will heal you over time while I inspect your wounds.”

Fenris appreciated the fact that Anders had explicitly made the potion in front of him so that he would see no poison was slipped into the vial. Fenris reached out for the vial slowly, making sure his fingers didn’t touch Anders’ as he pulled the vial back to him. Sniffing the potion and making a face at the weird, yet familiar smell, Fenris downed it all in one go. He didn’t catch the way Anders’ eyes drifted to his throat to follow the motion.

When Fenris was done, he handed the vial back and asked, “You have heard I am a beacon of hope?”

“This clinic,” Anders began, gesturing around, “serves all members of Tevinter. We attend the most important Altus mages to the lowest slaves on the totem pole. We do not discriminate and have even taken in a few Qunari wounded on the battlefield. All of our treatment rooms are equal and all supplies are well-managed. There is no inequality to be found in these walls. Even our staff is composed of all races and classes.”

“I can’t imagine the Magisterium would be happy with such an establishment,” Fenris muttered. The bitterness in his tone was evident.

“They weren’t. But I didn’t ask them. When I came to Tevinter, I sought an audience with both the Archon and the Black Divine. Given my…past actions, they both considered an audience with me worth their time. I received permission from both of them to set up this clinic and treat everyone. The Archon has the authority to supersede the Magisterium. Plus the Black Divine gets to brag about how wonderful he is and how he’s the model of kindness and charity by smacking his seal of approval on a new hospital that takes in all regardless of social class. It’s all a farce to try and make Tevinter look less menacing than it actually is. I don’t really care, though. They leave me alone most of the time and I get to continue my work.”

Anders raised his hands over Fenris and looked into the warrior’s eyes for permission. Fenris nodded and gritted his teeth as Anders’s invasive magic slowly traveled over him. As Anders inspected his wounds, Fenris thought on his words.

“Have you met any of the Magisterium?”

“Oh, I’ve had a few magisters come in here from time to time. Usually blood magic rituals gone horribly wrong. With how many assassination attempts occur here, you would think we were at the Winter Palace in Orlais. There was one fellow a few weeks ago who came here to ‘inspect’ the place. He claimed it was on the Archon’s orders, but I saw through the charade. I knew who he was and what he wanted. Luckily his intentions were good and he only wanted to check in on an old friend who had been staying with us under our care. I don’t suppose you ever met Magister Halward Pavus during your earlier years here in Tevinter?”

Fenris’s gaze darkened as he remembered the man in mention. “Danarius had dinner with him and his wife on more than one occasion. They were miserable folk who played the game perfectly.”

“Well his son Dorian took over his seat on the Magisterium when he died. He served with the Inquisition for a time before becoming a magister, you know.”

Fenris nodded in acknowledgement. He had indeed heard of the upper-class Tevinter mage who had assisted in stopping Corypheus. Harding spoke very highly of both his physical looks and his skill in battle. Knowing a Tevinter magister had once drank in the same tavern as him, shared the same friends as him, and might have even lived in the same quarters Fenris had inhabited in Skyhold set his blood aflame. Fenris had never met Dorian during his time with Danarius, but he knew they weren’t that far apart in age.

Anders took in the dark expression that crossed Fenris’s face and chuckled. “Don’t worry. Dorian is…well he was definitely in his element when he came here for his ‘inspection’ of the place. Kind of like a peacock strutting around showing off his plumage. He…well he might not share your belief that all slaves should be freed, but he does have a good heart to him. He wants to change Tevinter into a country that can be respected and admired. Talking to him was…interesting.”

“Every magister wants to turn Tevinter into precisely that. Keep your wits about you, mage. He is as deceitful and selfish as the rest of his brethren.”

Fenris expected Anders to argue about how wonderful his new  _best friend_ was but instead the doctor smiled fondly at him. The previously distracted look in his eyes softened into something akin to humor. Anders didn’t verbally respond and instead turned to finish examining Fenris’s wounds. The doctor’s silence unnerved Fenris but he didn’t ask about the look in the man’s eyes. Anders kept the smile on his face even as he sat back, cutting off his magic flow from Fenris.

“Your lung has healed considerably thanks to the constant flow of magic. The stab wounds on your back could use a constant application of healing oils that will soothe the scarred tissue. If you want I can have Orana do it. There’s no immediate rush for an answer, but the longer you go without the oil, the quicker the tissue will scar and risk infection. I should warn you that despite her pretty appearance, her hands are like sandpaper. You’d probably get softer touches from the Arishok. Your liver still needs time to heal. There won’t be any dancing through these halls for you, I’m afraid.” Anders’s eyes twinkled with humor as he stood up to leave. “I’ll be back to check on you later tonight. Is there anything else?”

Oh, there were a hundred questions Fenris wanted to ask of the man before him. Yet the one that stumbled from his lips was, “Doctor Crowfeather?”

Anders actually blushed at the question and looked away from Fenris, stubbornly ignoring the smirk on the warrior’s face. “The coat I wore in Kirkwall…I was pressed for time when I came here and didn’t really have a chance to think of a better name. It was actually Orana's suggestion. The feathers on my coat weren't actually those of crows but...”

Fenris reveled in the man’s embarrassment. It was…humbling in a sense. Anders rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and Fenris couldn't help but smirk. Before he could let Anders slink away out of the room, Fenris posed his next question.

“I suppose you were responsible for naming this clinic then.”

Anders, who had awkwardly begun shuffling for the door, paused mid-step and froze on the spot. The smile was swept off his face and the hand that had been raised to open the door hung dumbly in the air. Slowly he turned back to face Fenris, keeping his face oddly blank.

“I did.”

Fenris _hmm_ -ed and gave a short nod, tilting his head again to regard Anders curiously. “It sounds distantly familiar but I cannot place it.”

The breath seemed to catch in Anders’ throat as he fought desperately to keep his emotions under control. His amber eyes betrayed him as they always had, and Fenris watched the flurry of emotions pass through them.

“I…there was a Tranquil mage in Kirkwall I knew…Hawke was with me when…” Anders seemed to have difficulty finding the right words and something about him stumbling over himself in this situation didn’t sit right with Fenris. Before Anders could explain further, Fenris held up a hand.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to pry. I thought I remembered the name being in connection to you was all.”

The amber eyes met his and Fenris saw him searching for...something. Anders must have realized Fenris truly had meant no ill-intent for he let out the breath he had been holding in. Even after all these years, even after all that Anders had gone through during and after Kirkwall, the knowledge that someone close to him had been made tranquil still deeply haunted and affected Anders.

Fenris wasn’t sure how he expected Anders to react next, but it certainly wasn’t for the doctor to pull that soft smile back on his face as he looked at Fenris.

“I am surprised you remembered.”

Fenris didn’t know how to respond to that. There had been a time when he had looked upon the idea of tranquility without much negative regard. He certainly knew many mages from Tevinter and Fereldan who deserved to be permanently cut off from the Fade and made devoid of all emotion. But that time when they had gone on their first actual mission with Anders…the look in the mage’s eyes as he killed the Tranquil mage had stayed with the warrior over the years. It was one of the few times, especially during Fenris’s early years of absolutely hating the mage, that Anders had ever looked…small. Broken.

“I have a solid memory,” Fenris replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. He hoped his answer was vague and dismissive enough to make Anders leave.

The mage in question nodded as if Fenris’s answer explained everything and left the room, smile still in place as he left. Once the door had shut behind him, Fenris sank further into the bed and wished for sleep to claim him for a nap. Seeing Anders only raised more questions he didn't want to think on.


	3. I'm Losing My Focus!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Crowfeather worries for the first time that someone might recognize the connection between the name of his clinic and his real identity. Fearing for the safety of himself and his patients, he gives a call to our favorite new Spymaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters will switch between focusing on Fenris and focusing on Anders. Also we see a bit more of Lace Harding in this one. I love her and she is the biggest Fenders shipper in this story so if you don't like our precious Harding, you're in for a wild ride. As always, please review and I thank you for your kudos and kind words! This chapter is just a short look at how Anders is doing...

As soon as Anders left Fenris’s room, he high-tailed it to his office. The smile slid off his face as he began to fret. When he had decided on a name for the clinic, the meaning had been private. No one in Tevinter knew Karl or knew anything about him. They couldn’t trace the name back to Anders because they didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody was _supposed_ to know.

Anders closed the door behind him quickly and leaned heavily against it for a minute to catch his breath. Never in a million years would he have guessed that fucking _Fenris_ of all people would remember. But Fenris had _been there_. He had been there that night – he had been a part of that moment. Anders had never thought back on it with regard to Fenris and it surprised him that Fenris _remembered_ that moment to this day. Had Fenris always remembered that night? _Why_ did he remember? Anders had always only considered the possibility that the only other person who took note of his pain and what losing Karl to tranquility had meant…was Hawke.

Maybe Fenris’s nonchalance at remembering the name in connection to him was just that – nonchalance. Maybe the deep significance behind the name and what had happened to Karl didn’t register as important in Fenris’s mind. Maybe he had just been making conversation.

No, Fenris _never_ just made conversation. No matter how much time had passed, Anders knew that was one trait that would never change about the warrior. Everything he said had some hidden or deeper meaning. And to bring up something so personal was _not_ the way to just…make conversation. Fenris had known when he had asked. Fenris _knew_ and that was dangerous.

What if others remembered?

_Stupid, stupid. It was stupid of me! I should have known better. I shouldn't have been so_ cheeky _._

Anders took a few deep breaths and moved from the door to his desk chair. The office was relatively large compared to other offices he had been in. Its large windows were darkened to allow him to see out but deny any prying eyes from looking in. The floors were a light marble and the walls were bare. The office was pristine and neat to match the rest of the hospital. Sitting down, Anders put his head in his hands. It made sense, in a way. At the time of Karl’s death, Anders and Fenris had hated each other with every fiber of their beings. They bickered constantly and threw hurtful insults at each other in greeting whenever they were forced to go anywhere together. Therefore, why would Anders think Fenris being there the night he had to kill Karl would have changed the warrior’s opinion of him? Fenris hadn’t known Anders and Karl had been lovers. The only one who knew of the deep affection that had run deep for both of them was Hawke. Anders was pretty sure he never told Fenris Karl’s last name. Had he? He couldn’t remember. When Anders replayed that night in his nightmares in the weeks, _months_ that had followed, Fenris was never there. His presence hadn’t been significant before.

Until now.

Anders loosened his hair from his hair tie and ran his fingers through it. If Fenris could make the connection after all of these years then maybe others could. They had killed any templars there that night, but word must have spread around. What if the templars found out the connection? There certainly were enough people in both Orlais _and_ Fereldan who were hunting for him and desperate for information about his whereabouts. What if the Archon or the Black Divine decided to change their minds about letting him stay and sold him out? It was entirely possible, especially in a land full of secrets like Tevinter. What if Anders truly _wasn’t_ safe here?

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts and on reflex Anders reached for the staff that rested on the wall. He took a defensive stance and could feel his magic bubbling, ready for the attack.

“Come in.”

It was just Lucinda, a dwarven doctor who had joined up a few months ago.

“Sorry to disturb you Boss, but I need you to sign off on these release papers for some of our guests.”

Anders gave a short sigh and nodded, reaching out a hand for the papers. Quickly signing them, Anders bade Lucinda farewell and turned to gaze out the window, still grasping his staff.

He needed reassurance.

**XXXXXXX**

Spymaster Lace Harding was currently humming a soft tune while she read through her agents’ reports for the day. There had been a few nasty altercations with old Venatori agents of Corypheus in the Silent Plains near Nevarra, but everyone on the Inquisition’s side had made it out okay. She was so focused on her reports that it took her a minute to recognize the soft jingling of a magic crystal going off beside her. Giving a small start, Lace jumped up and grabbed the crystal. It was about the size of a nug’s head and a deep purple color.

“Harding here!”

“Ah, Spymaster! So good to hear from you.”

Lace couldn’t help but keep the smile out of her voice as she sat back down on a desk. “Doctor Crowfeather! Everything is well I hope?”

“Of course. My patients are doing well and things are looking up.”

_Good, Fenris is doing well._

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Doc?”

“Oh I just missed the sound of your voice. Say, did you hear about the High Dragon taken down in the Western Approach? That must’ve been quite the sight!”

It was code. Anders was scared about his cover being blown. Instantly Lace signaled to her agents who were waiting at the bottom of the stairwell. Knowing what she wanted, they hurried off. While she waited for their return, she stalled for time to make the conversation seem more natural to anyone who had managed to tap into their conversation. Magic crystals such as these were rare in Tevinter and only given to those of high status. Anders had given it to her as soon as he had learned that Fenris was going to be a patient of his. They weren't easily tapped into but one could never be too careful.

“I heard it was taken down by two dwarves and a golem! Three against one!”

Anders _hmm-_ ed on the other end of the line and she knew he was probably fidgeting. His voice stayed even, never betraying him, which was something she found admirable. Despite what everyone said about Anders, Harding found him…quirky. His quick wit was admirable and she did have a soft spot for attractive mages. (Especially if her past crushes on both the Inquisitor _and_ Dorian was anything to go by.) Having been raised in Orzammar didn’t really peg her as the most devout Andrastian either. Harding liked Anders. They had only spoken face to face once but they got along well.

The two agents came back and handed her a letter.

Skimming over it with her eyes, she said into the crystal, “My reports tell me there aren’t supposed to be any more dragons in the area though. So all travelers should be safe.”

_We haven’t received word of anything. Nobody suspicious in the area or in your hospital. Your position hasn’t been compromised. Remain calm._

“Ah, I see. It’s just that this dragon must have been at least a _thousand_ pounds! And it breathed ice! Can you imagine how an ice dragon fared in the Western Approach? My patients are concerned about getting frozen in a desert wasteland. Can you believe that?”

_I’m still concerned. Please send some more agents to patrol around here and keep an eye on things._

“Since the Inquisitor killed most of the High Dragons in Thedas, I bet the few ones remaining were just forced to find new hunting grounds. That’s all.”

_Would you calm down? I’m on it. Stay alert Anders._

“Right, I’m sure you’re right. Well, stay safe out there and should any dragons cross your path, take to lower ground!”

_I can only defend so many patients if we're attacked. Hurry.  
_

“Will do. Take care, Doc.” The connection fizzled out and Lace turned to face her agents. “Double our watch on the clinic. Do background checks on all patients who go in there. I’m not letting anyone risk hurting them.”

**XXXXXXXX**

Anders locked the crystal back in his desk and sat back in his chair. Harding would follow through. If anyone did make the connection between Karl’s name and himself, they wouldn’t be able to get into the clinic. Harding would see to that.

Anders knew he had to get out and distract himself. There was no point worrying about the inevitable now. Habit made him start walking towards the research rooms but he stopped halfway in his journey. Researching how to reverse the rite of tranquility would simply remind him of his current predicament. He turned and instead headed towards the burn ward. If he could get to work healing it would not only distract him but give him a good outlet to do something productive. Rolling up his sleeves, Anders set to work.

He would check on Fenris after he finished here.

 


	4. Oh No! Not You Too!

Fenris had been fingering his hair when Orana gently knocked on the door and came in with dinner. During his time in Kirkwall his hair had ended about halfway down the back of his neck and his bangs had ended roughly around the tip of his cheekbones. Fenris had considered growing his hair out as a miniature form of rebellion. When he had been a slave, Danarius had had every say over his appearance and how he looked. Now that he was free, Fenris took pleasure in letting his hair hang untamed and wild. However, his hair had grown _too_ long and it tickled the back of his neck and itched at him. He could do with a haircut.

Orana put the tray down on his lap. Soup and bread were the only things Fenris could manage with his system still healing, but the food was surprisingly tasty for being hospital food. He supposed it was part of Anders’s doing to try and make all patients feel welcome and cared for. He thanked her and began eating. Orana bowed slightly and began to leave before Fenris stopped her.

“Wait.” Orana turned to face him and he finished chewing. “I know this is your job now but I wanted to still thank you for all that you have done for me. Your kindness and discretion for my being here have been appreciated.”

Orana blushed slightly and looked away from him out of embarrassment.  

“It is no trouble. You were always very kind to me in Kirkwall and what you are doing for the slaves here in Tevinter is very noble. If I can help at all, I want to.”

“If I may ask, what brought you here? The last time I saw you, you were working for Hawke.”

“Serrah Hawke was very good to me. I could have stayed in Kirkwall, but I knew I would do better service here working for Doctor Crowfeather. He needed friends when he came here…Serrah Hawke thought he would be very lonely too. I think coming here was hard for him. I know he didn’t have a choice and many said that he brought it on himself, but still it’s…sad. He has taught me much about healing and helping others. I believe he is a very kind man who means well. I wish he had more friends here.”

Fenris figured Orana called the doctor by his fake name even in private rather than ‘Anders’ out of habit by now. Her honesty and open kindness vaguely reminded him of another elf he knew in Kirkwall…a Dalish one who always sought the good in people.

“Is there anyone else from Kirkwall working for him?”

“There was a boy in Kirkwall who was saved from possession. His teachers allow him to come here every few weeks and help out with difficult wounds that require a mastery skill with healing. His name is Feynriel…he’s very nice.” Orana blushed lightly and Fenris tried to keep the amused smirk off his face. So she had a crush on the half-elf, did she? Fenris remembered the boy in mention and how he and Anders had accompanied Hawke into the Fade to save him.

“Does Feynriel know the true Doctor Crowfeather?”

“He doesn’t say anything out of the ordinary. He always calls the doctor ‘Crowfeather’ and never speaks of his past life while he’s here. He only cares about helping people like the way he was helped.”

Fenris nodded and was silent as he contemplated her words. Orana took his silence as a dismissal and she moved to leave the room. As her hand reached for the handle of the door, Fenris quickly asked, “Do you have a pair of scissors around?”

Orana was surprised at the quick change of subject and her eyes widened. Fenris gave a huff and hurriedly explained, “I need a haircut. This mess is too long for me and it is irritating.”

“Would you like me to do it for you? I can see the back of your head a lot better than you can and I’ll make sure it’s even.”

Fenris hesitated. She had proven herself trustworthy so far and if she wanted to kill him she could have done it sooner when he was more injured. Sensing his hesitation, Orana quickly reached into the bedside table and held up a mirror.

“You can watch me the entire time and if I do something you don’t like you can tell me.”

_It’ll be difficult to tell you when I’m bleeding out from the throat._

But Fenris nodded his consent and took the mirror from her. She was familiar and her presence was familiar. He would trust her. She drew out a pair of scissors and moved to stand a bit behind the bed.

“Do you just want a simple trim or can I style it a bit?”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Style?”

Orana blushed and stuttered, “I-I always liked shaping hair. Serrah An– Doctor Crowfeather says I have a talent for it.”

“…What did you have in mind?”

**XXXXXX**

Anders gave a sigh as he finished with the last burn patient of the day. The wounds on everyone he had seen that day were from explosions caused by that damn Qunari powder. It had taken him hours to cure one patient as best he could and even after all his hard work the patient’s face and body were still scarred. This damn war was frustrating and causing so many innocent people to suffer.

Sighing, Anders rubbed the back of his neck as he made his way to Fenris’s room. There was no point dwelling on the negatives now. Anders resolved himself to focus on the positives instead. The Lieutenant-Commander of the Inquisition was alive and in his care. That should certainly stand for something. Anders passed a few of Harding’s undercover agents on the way and nodded to them in acknowledgement. They had arrived while he was in the burn ward posing as extra help from the Magisterium. Even though Anders knew nothing had actually happened so far to risk uncovering him, he still had to take precautions. Maybe he needed to take more.

Anders reached Fenris’s room and pushed open the door to find Orana and Fenris talking lowly behind a handheld mirror.

“Ah Orana, how is our patient doi-”

Anders’ words died on his lips when Fenris lowered the mirror and his face was unhidden.

His hair had not _just_ been cut. The left side of his head had been shaved down to a short buzz. The hair on the right side of his head had been styled to almost flair out on its descent down the side of his face. His bangs still covered his right eye somewhat even after their trim. With the half-shaved look, Fenris’s left ear was entirely exposed. That meant that Anders could see the simple, black earring stud that was secured to the elf’s lobe. It had the Inquisition’s symbol painted on it in silver. _That_ had certainly never been on the elf during their shared time in Kirkwall. Had Fenris had a piercing when he came into the clinic? Anders didn’t remember noticing it. And certainly he would have remembered _that_.

Fenris looked _really_ good.

Anders wasn’t an idiot – Fenris had always looked good. Anders could completely understand why Hawke, Isabela, and so many others had been quite taken with the warrior’s physical image. It was no secret that his and Fenris’s competition for Hawke’s affection had made their rivalry run even deeper. But seeing Fenris _now_ with a completely new look that just suited him so damn _perfectly_ …

Anders’s eyes met Fenris’s and he swallowed thickly. Something… _something_ had changed about Fenris over the years. It wasn’t just his physical appearance that had taken a drastic turn sometime today – no…Anders wasn’t sure exactly _what_ it was but he knew in that moment that he wanted to find out.

If their situations had been different – if Anders had just wandered into a tavern and saw Fenris after all these years then maybe, just _maybe_ , they could have shared a pint and sat down for a long overdue session of catching up. But now their situations were too different. It wasn’t easy. It _couldn’t_ be that easy to catch up.

Fenris quirked an eyebrow the way he always did when he was amused and what’s worse was that he had that damn smirk on his face.

Orana looked between the two and supplied, “Lieutenant-Commander Fenris wanted a haircut. He was gracious enough to allow me to have a little…fun with his hair. Oh, I didn’t go too overboard did I?”

“It looks marvelous, Orana,” Fenris said after a beat of silence, his eyes strangely never leaving Anders’s. “I think I was long overdue for a change of pace.”

“You are very welcome,” Orana replied warmly. Giving a nod to Anders, she quickly hurried out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Her departure snapped Anders out of his musings and he quickly pulled up a chair to the bed. Distracting himself by preparing health potions, Anders refused to look at Fenris. He hoped that Fenris wouldn’t comment on his idiotic staring but clearly this just wasn’t his day.

“You did not tell me you had a miracle worker here in Tevinter. I thought my hair was surely done for until she offered her services.”

“You sound like Isabela. What, do they not have scissors in Skyhold?”

Fenris’s smirk grew and his voice was positively dripping as he replied, “And waste the talents of such a wonderful hairstylist? Hardly.”

Anders smirked at that and maybe if he had been looking the elf in the eye he would have seen the brief sparkle of light that appeared in those emerald orbs. This type of banter was safe territory for them. It seemed almost…familiar. And Fenris wasn’t mocking the mage for openly checking him out. That was…well that was certainly something. Anders finished prepping the potions and moved to check the elf’s wounds. Before he could release his magic, Anders turned and caught Fenris’s expression. Fenris nodded, giving his permission, and Anders was momentarily distracted by the way Fenris’s bangs shuffled ever-so-slightly forward when he nodded.

_Get a hold of yourself. The fuck is the matter with you all of a sudden? An old…what is he? Friend? Companion? Rival? Whatever, an old elf acquaintance shows up, gets a haircut, and you’re a mess? What the fuck, knock it off._

Shaking his head slightly to silence his thoughts, Anders let his magic begin pooling out and over Fenris.

“Did you know that she makes wigs for patients who have lost their hair due to illness?”

The warrior’s question startled him out of the distracted haze he usually entered when he was deeply focused on his work and Anders paused in his examination. “Who does?”

“Orana. She takes the hair cut from patients who no longer want theirs of a longer length and she fashions wigs out of them. I had never heard of such a thing before.”

“Oh, right. Yes, I knew that. And they look pretty realistic too…her work is pretty spectacular. I’m sure if Hawke had known then Orana’s service here would never had been allowed. Selfish prick.” Anders started the flow of magic again. After a few minutes of internal debate he confessed, “She did a great job with you by the way. It matches your punkish, rebellious nature.”

Fenris actually chuckled at that and subconsciously ran a hand through his locks. “I am not sure whether or not I like the idea of the history books remembering me as a _rebellious punk_.”

“An ex-Tevinter slave made to be a living weapon who turns on those who did him wrong and freed thousands? Oh, it is definitely a story for the future generations. I’d hardly be surprised if your name became as common as Andraste’s herself. Does it feel lighter? With so much of it gone, I mean.”

Fenris _hmm_ -ed as he ran his other hand over the shaved side. “I suppose so. It mostly feels kind of drafty. It is odd but not unwelcome. I have had so many people tell me what to do with it – with my body in general – that I guess I got too used to letting it run wild. Being able to have a say in how it was styled was nice.”

“It looks good.”

Green eyes met amber and Fenris seemed to be waiting for some quip or follow-up remark. When he saw nothing but honesty in Anders’s eyes, Fenris blinked. In that moment they were both reminded yet again of how little they knew about one another and what had happened in the years that separated them. Besides physically, Anders wondered how much had the warrior changed over the years? As far as Anders could tell, Fenris still had his trusty sense of dry humor and he was still weary of magic. But that wasn’t all that encompassed the warrior. What had it been like to join the Inquisition? Did Fenris enjoy it? What was the Inquisitor like? Anders had heard she was a pro-mage elf with magic herself, but he didn’t really know how far her pro-mage beliefs went. What was Skyhold like? Was Fenris happy there? Did he still have ownership over the mansion in Hightown that had once belonged to Danarius? How was it for the elf being back here in Tevinter?

Similarly, Fenris had a hundred questions he wanted to ask Anders. Was the mage still fused with the spirit? Had they learned how to exist co-habitually or had Anders found a way to dispel the spirit from his body? Did Anders ever get a new cat? What did he _really_ think about Tevinter?

The distraction caused the flow of magic to stutter and Anders quickly turned his gaze back to Fenris’s body hidden under the sheet. _It’s been too long. You can’t just ask him what you want to know. And even if you_ could _ask, what makes you think he would tell you? You were never_ friends _. A few shared games of Wicked Grace and some adventures together don’t entitle you to know what he’s been up to. Stop thinking about prying and mind your business. Focus on the task at hand._ Anders repeated the mantra as he finished checking Fenris’s wounds rather quickly.

“You still need time to heal. There has not been much improvement since I checked on you this morning. Oh, the ointment! Have you given my question any thought?”

It took Fenris a minute to remember what Anders was referring to. He had forgotten all about needing someone to rub the oil into his skin. He supposed he could ask Orana – he had already let her cut his hair. But Anders had been right about her touch being rough. To have those sandpaper-like hands on his skin wasn’t terribly appealing.

“It is fine. I will survive without it.”

Anders frowned at him and opened his mouth to argue when Orana quickly opened the door and poked her head in.

“Doctor Crowfeather! Excuse me, but you are needed immediately back in the burn ward. They just brought in someone who needs you.”

Anders nodded and quickly stood up to leave. He turned back to Fenris and said, “You _do_ need the ointment and as soon as I’m done with this I’m coming right back here to argue with you. And I assure you, I will win.”

Anders and Orana left the room leaving Fenris behind to stare after them.

_I see your stubbornness has not left you._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I have been on vacation. Here is the newest chapter - please tell me what you think! The image included in this chapter was done by the lovely froekenpest on Tumblr and was uploaded to this fic with their permission. The link to their original post with this art can be found here: http:// froekenpest . tumblr . com / image / 146399778758 and I highly encourage you to check out their art found here: froekenpest . tumblr . com. When I saw this picture it kind of reminded me of how I think Fenris's hair would look in DA4 with the half-shaved look and was the inspiration for his hairstyle in this chapter. Thank you for reading and for your kudos and reviews! Much love!


	5. Give Me A Hand!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Dorian.

“Good! You’re finally here. Now help me close this, would you?”

Anders quickly made his way to where none other than one Dorian Pavus was standing over a body pressing a heap of bandages against a wound to stop the profuse bleeding. The injured man under him had a huge gash in his stomach and Dorian was pouring magic into him through the bandages. Thankfully the Altus had had the sense to put on a medical smock and gloves, although Anders couldn’t be sure whether that was to prevent infection or to keep his outfit neat and tidy.

“Magister Pavus, I see you’ve managed to find some trouble again.”

“Technically _he’s_ the one who found trouble,” Dorian replied with a nod to the man below him. “I was just the poor sap of a passerby who saw him fall on the battlefield.”

“And what is this? Charity work?”

“Hardly,” Dorian scoffed. “This one just seems to get injured a lot.”

Anders joined his healing magic with Dorian’s and frowned. “These wounds are pretty serious.”

“No kidding. Why else do you think I rushed him here?” Dorian tried to keep his voice light and sarcastic but Anders detected the strain there.

“I thought someone of your status would have access to a much better establishment closer to Minrathous.”

“We weren’t _in_ Minrathous.”

Anders quirked an eyebrow but focused his attention on healing the stranger. Anders took in the short brown hair cropped into a neat military style with a shaved undertone. His left eye was blackened, his nose and leg were broken, and he had several gashes along his arms.

“Who is he?”

“No one of importance.”

“Dorian.” Anders’s voice was soft as he gave the magister a meaningful gaze over the body.

Dorian gave a huff as he leaned over the body to mutter, “Later. Let’s patch him up for now, yes?”

Anders gave a short nod, eyes drifting around the crowded burn ward. Because the place was so busy nobody was explicitly giving them much attention but Anders knew there were eyes on him. The Spymaster’s people weren’t as discreet as one would think.

Nurses brought them supplies as they worked. There was a constant supply of regeneration potions and lyrium, as well as water for Dorian and Anders to stay hydrated as they worked. The process was a slow one because of how severe the wounds were. Anders and Dorian established an easy rhythm, their magic mixing together easily to patch up the wounds. Dorian’s magic was powerful and the fact was not lost on Anders. He remembered hearing of the man’s achievements with the Inquisition and was thankful that such a powerful mage was supposedly on the side of good.

Within an hour both Anders and Dorian were sweating under their clothes. Dorian’s makeup, while usually perfect, had smudged slightly with perspiration. His hair was slightly astray and he had long-since discarded the excess jewelry so he wouldn’t get blood on it. With his bare arms and out-of-sorts appearance, he didn’t look like the threatening _magister_ people had been taught to believe over the years. He looked imperfect. Normal.

Anders saw the hint of worry in Dorian’s eyes as they worked. The magister was afraid of the body below them going cold.

“This is important to you.”

It wasn’t a question and they both knew it. Dorian’s eyes met his over the man’s body and Anders saw the exhaustion there. Something was wrong. Granted he hadn’t known the magister very long and could hardly trust him, but something had happened. There was a deeper reason _why_ Dorian was here. Something was wrong.

“I think this is all we can do for now. Will your people look after him for a bit?”

Anders nodded and gestured to the door leading out of the burn ward. “Come into my office.”

**XXXXXXX**

As soon as they entered the office, Dorian immediately dropped the act and slumped into the chair across from Anders’s desk. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up further, and let out a weary sigh.

“Tell me, when you came to Tevinter, did you want to repeatedly bang your head against a door? This damn war is almost making me wish we had a Blight to fight. Maybe then my fellow magisters could stop trying to eliminate all of Par Vollen for two seconds.”

Anders chuckled and pulled out a bottle of brandy from under his desk. Dorian had given it to him as a thank you gift after the doctor had patched up his friend. Anders had figured Dorian would come back to share a drink but not so soon. Pouring two glasses and handing one to Dorian, Anders quirked a brow.

“I like to think the magisters just want the Qunari gone because they get tired of having to crane their necks to look at their opponents.”

“Let’s switch spots for a day. I’ll run from the Heretic Chantry and work this place while you suffer the endless prattle of a hundred bigots with loud opinions about _everything_.”

As soon as Dorian’s words sunk into Anders’s brain, the doctor was on high alert. Dorian caught him checking to make sure his staff was against the wall like always and he quickly held up a hand.

“Relax, Doctor. I am not here to reveal your identity or anything of the sort. Quite the opposite in fact. I need your help and your secrecy.”

Anders’s blood ran cold and his heart beat wildly in his chest. He willed his voice to stay steady as he asked, “So you’re going to blackmail me then?”

Dorian gave an exasperated sigh as he threw his hands up in the air. “Could just _one_ person not label me as an evil Tevinter magister out for his own gains? That would be swell!”

“Since you know about my past, it’s rather difficult to imagine you being so ignorant as to not understand my suspicion.”

“I assure you I am not here to blackmail you, nor do I intend on doing anything of the sort,” Dorian explained calmly as he took a sip of the brandy. “This is good stuff. I have good taste. I guessed about your identity and it was confirmed by Spymaster Harding. She suggested I come to you for help. I do not come here as a _magister_ , as someone seeking to sell you out, or as someone looking to blackmail you. I came here on behalf of a very dear friend who requires the aid of your clinic.”

“You could have tapped the crystal lines. You could have her being tortured right now to say anything you want her to say should I call her –”

“Maker, do you have _anyone_ left that you trust?”

Anders pursed his lips and didn’t reply. He was busy mentally calculating the different ways he could escape.

Dorian let out a sigh. “It must be lonely for you. My sympathies.” His eyes showed genuine empathy as he drained the rest of his glass and rested it on the desk. “Allow me to explain my situation and if you want to say no, I understand and will not hold it against you. But I have a feeling you will be inspired to help me once you hear my cause.”

Anders’s magic was bristling under his skin. Years of fighting and fleeing had him on edge and ready to lunge past Dorian for the door. He could even try leaping from the window. Blight take him, Anders was ready to fight to the death if need be. He had felt Dorian’s magic, he knew what he was up against. They were evenly matched and Anders knew the likelihood of both of them surviving a duel was slim.

“…What do you want?”

“There is a Qunari I grew rather close with during my time with the Inquisition. He is in charge of a mercenary band that has been taking out leaders of both sides of the Tevinter-Qunari War. He…well he needs a place for his agents to go when they’re wounded. He cares very deeply about his people and wants only the best care for them. You have already treated some of them, but things out there have taken a turn. More and more Chargers of higher status who share deeper ties to him are at risk. He needs to know he can send them somewhere secure. He has connections to Lace and she can vouch for him, I assure you. You’re the only person I can trust not to poison him or his men when they’re wounded.”

“Who was the one you brought in?”

“Krem Aclassi. He’s the right hand of the Qunari I spoke of and a dear friend to me personally. I wasn’t completely lying when I said I was just passing by when I saw the fighting. As soon as he fell I knew I had to take him here. I risked a great deal to come here – if anyone in the Magisterium saw me assisting the Chargers…”

Anders didn’t drop his guard as he squinted at Dorian. “Why reveal you know who I am?”

Dorian shrugged. “No real reason to keep secrets from the one man I need to trust to take care of Bull’s men. I need to trust your secrecy and you deserve to know that I know. Honesty is not something that is quite common in Tevinter. A real shame, really.”

Anders didn’t reply and Dorian continued, “Lace Harding, as well as the Inquisitor herself, can vouch for me without being pressured to do so. I recognize that that might not mean much to you considering you didn’t have any interaction with the Inquisition, but I hoped it might. There is a sickness in this world that stems from something much darker than a Blight.”

“This is all you want of me? To heal up some mercenaries?”

“Hard to believe, right? But yes, it really is that simple. They’re good people – all of them. And they deserve the best care. I’m sure the new Spymaster and the Inquisitor would agree.”

“Nothing in this world is ever that simple.”

Dorian refilled his glass and held it up for emphasis. “Brandy is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the ridiculous amount of run-on sentences in this chapter but I simply couldn't help it. Basically it's going to take a while for Anders and Dorian to fully trust one another but eventually they're going to have a solid, healthy friendship. I really like the idea of them being companions in the next game and sharing a lot of witty banter complete with sass. Plus Anders really needs a friend in this chapter. (I kind of like the idea of Dorian getting him a cat...) The next chapter will probably have Fenris meeting Dorian which will be quite a ride! I hope you enjoyed this short chapter and as always, thank you for your kudos and reviews!


	6. Rest And Be Grateful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris makes a bit of progress and Orana helps him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short kind of filler chapter to show how Fenris is slowly trying his best to recover quickly. I wanted to show how uncomfortable Fenris is with being bedridden and how needing to rely on other people is both physically and emotionally draining. The next chapter will have more Anders/Fenris interaction and will be longer :)

Fenris was restless. He was not made to lie around in a bed for hours on end while his body healed. He needed to get up and move around to test his limitations. It was nearly midnight and Anders still had not returned from the burn ward. Perhaps the strain of trying to move about would wear Fenris out. He called for Orana to come in.

“I wish to try to stand.”

“That is not a wise move, Lieutenant-Commander. Your injuries –”

“Orana, I am a warrior. I am not made to stay in bed for more than a few hours at a time let alone a few days. I _need_ to try to move around.”

“Serrah –”

Fenris cut her off with a look that said he was going to try no matter what she said. Orana knew how persistent he could be and bit her lip. She cast a worried glance at the door behind her, probably expecting Anders to rush in and scold her for not stopping him. Realizing Fenris would need her help and Anders could just wait to scold her, she moved beside the bed to help him stand.

Fenris took hold of the arm rests on the bed and began the slow process of pushing himself up into a sitting position. He gritted his teeth as pain surged through his stomach and hips. The lack of muscle movement had caused a persistent feeling of pins-and-needles through his legs. The effort it took for him just to sit up was great and Fenris was panting by the time he managed the feat.

“Do you want some health potions?”

“No. No.”

Fenris took a few deep breaths and started to turn his body. His legs felt like lead. He had managed to get his legs over the side of the bed when suddenly he gagged. Orana lightly pushed a bucket under him just in time for him to puke violently into it. Orana pushed his bangs out of his face and he barely noticed her scratchy touch as he puked. By the time he finished, Fenris felt as if all his organs had left his body. He felt like utter shit.

“This is a side effect of the excess lyrium and elfroot intake you’ve been having lately,” Orana explained. “Because your most serious wounds are in your stomach, your body often tries to kick out anything put into it in the simplest way possible. This is why your meals are kept relatively light. I have water here for when you feel up to it.”

Fenris heard her words but he wasn’t really capable of responding. He kept his forehead pressed against the rim of the bucket so she wouldn’t see the tears that had formed in his eyes. He knew that crying was the body’s natural response to puking but it still made him feel incredibly weak. He hadn’t thrown up in front of someone since he got super wasted during a Wicked Grace night. This was equally as embarrassing.

“If you want to rest we can try again later –”

“No,” Fenris croaked out. “I just…need a minute.”

Orana didn’t argue and he was grateful for it. Fenris gagged a bit more but when nothing else came out, he wordlessly handed the bucket back to Orana. Fenris grimaced at the glass of water she handed him but he took a sip, swished it around in his mouth, and spit it back out into the bucket. Then he swallowed a few more sips of the water. Orana moved the bucket and the glass out of his line of sight and held out her arm to him if he needed it. Fenris took another few deep breaths through his nose before he gripped the side arm rest of the bed with his left hand and put his right hand on the mattress for leverage. Painstakingly slowly, Fenris pushed off the bed to stand. His arms and legs were shaking and the pain caused him to gasp. Just as he was about to stand upright, his body swayed violently. Orana caught him easily and held him up around the waist. She slipped his arm around her shoulders and held him around the waist. Using her body for support, Fenris continued his journey and eventually he was able to stand.

That didn’t mean the pain wasn’t causing his vision to blur. It felt as though something was about to burst out of his stomach and claw him apart.

_I’d rather listen to one of the mage’s insufferable rants about the plight of mages to this shit._

Orana was waiting for him to make the first move and he breathed out a quick sigh of relief at how considerate she was being. He hated this kind of vulnerability and she seemed to understand. He was lucky to have her aiding him.

Fenris took a tentative step forward and then another. Orana moved with him and it was somewhat awkward. Fenris wasn’t one for letting people invade his personal space but her help _was_ needed. He made it about five steps forward before he swayed violently again. She held fast to him and steadied him. After a few moments he tried again but even Fenris knew his limitations. His body had broken out in a light sweat and his breathing was uneven. His heart was beating rapidly. Orana helped him back into bed and smiled at him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment, but you’ll be back on the battlefield before you know it. You did well, Lieutenant-Commander.”

Fenris nodded but he was frustrated. He was frustrated at himself for getting injured in the first place, he was frustrated that it took him this long to only be able to walk a few steps, and he was frustrated that his body couldn’t heal faster despite the lyrium branded into his skin. Being back in Tevinter but chained to a bed in order to heal was incredibly frustrating and it made Fenris perpetually uneasy. Orana refilled his glass of water and left a loaf of bread on his bedside table for him to munch on later.

“Doctor Crowfeather shouldn’t be much longer. I suppose the patient he had to work on was pretty serious.”

Her attempt at conversation was met with silence as Fenris brooded. She moved to leave but turned to look back at him in consideration.

“You know…there are a lot of people cheering you on to a fast recovery. I know you want to get out there and do what you came back to Tevinter to do, but I think that the fact that you’re trying this hard is monumental enough. And I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

Fenris looked up at her with a question in his eyes but she simply gave him a shy smile before departing.

_What was she getting at?_


	7. I'm Not Sure How Much More Of This I Can Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders returns to check on Fenris after reaching his breaking point. Angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what, the third chapter I've uploaded for this fic in a week? What can I say, the inspiration has been flowing! Thank you for your kudos and reviews, they mean the world to me :)

Lace Harding wasn’t surprised at all when she received a distress call from Anders through the crystal demanding to meet with her in the middle of the night.

“This is about your new best friend, isn’t it?”

“You told a member of the _Magisterium_ about me?”

Anders sounded like he was having a coronary and he must have been to forgo all secret coding. Lace held back a chuckle as she tried to maintain a professional tone in her voice. “Doc, relax. He is a great friend and a trusted ally. You two need each other.”

“What could I possibly need _him_ for?”

“He has influence in high places. If you actually _did_ get into trouble, he would be the on-sight expert helper. He’ll have your back.”

“Expert helper? You’re kidding me. Spymaster –”

“Take some time to get to know him. He really is a good person and you both have similar wants. It’ll work out fine.”

“ _Maker_ I can’t do this, Harding. How do you expect me to trust him? I can barely trust you and there is so much at stake here! My research – we’re so close –”

His voice broke and it wiped the smile off of Harding’s face. “Doctor, your research will not be affected. Everything is going to be fine. There are no hidden agendas with the request my friend asked of you.”

The line went silent except for the sound of a slight gasping for breath on the other end. Anders was trying to calm himself down. Lace frowned – she hadn’t realized how deep his mistrust of others ran. It was a foolish error on her part and she felt like an ass.

“I am sorry for not consulting with you first. I should have told you what he wanted and let you make the decision for yourself. He really is a friend though.”

“So were many others,” Anders replied harshly before disconnecting the line.

The bitterness and brokenhearted sound of his words left Lace feeling something awful.

**XXXXXX**

The feeble attempt to walk around his room had left Fenris in a weakened state. His body was exhausted and it hadn’t taken long for him to slip into slumber. When the door of his room opened, Fenris was somewhat sluggish in opening his eyes and looking at the intruder.

Anders looked haggard. His hair was disheveled the way it often looked after a brutal battle on the Wounded Coast. He had deep circles under his eyes and his face looked more sunken than usual. He had discarded the medical suit most likely after working the burn ward. Now he wore a deep green tunic with quarter-length sleeves that was cinched around his waist with a black belt. His ashen pants were crinkled but fit his legs snugly. Fenris watched as Anders undid his hair and it cascaded down to frame his face quite nicely. Anders swiftly put it back up into a messy bun and Fenris had a fleeting wish that the mage would have left it down. Without a word, Anders sat down and raised his slightly shaking hands to check Fenris’s wounds. At the last minute he remembered to check for the warrior’s consent. After getting it, Anders started checking over the wounds but the flow of his magic was stuttered at first.

“Mage.”

Anders jerked at the sound and shook his head as a way of saying it was nothing and continued with his healing check. Anders was startled again when a hand reached out and firmly grasped around his left wrist. The touch was incredibly warm and Anders realized this was the first form of physical contact he had had with the elf in years. And even during their time in Kirkwall Fenris usually wore his gauntlets. His magic faded away as the connection distracted him. The mage’s gaze slowly traveled up the warrior’s arm to gaze into those emerald eyes.

_What’s wrong?_

The silent question in the elf’s eyes made Anders sigh. “Dorian Pavus came to ask me if members of the Iron Bull’s mercenary group could come here for treatment when they get wounded.”

“The Tevinter magister.”

“Yes.”

“But you did say that Spymaster Harding is close with him…?”

Anders sighed again and replied, “I did. And I called her and spoke with her and she did indeed vouch for him. But he knows my real identity – Maker, he even told me he knew. Said he wanted there to be no dishonesty between us. Can you believe that?”

“Do you have reason to believe he would blackmail you?”

Anders released his hair from the bun and broke the contact with Fenris in the process. A part of him immediately missed the comforting touch. He ran his hand through his hair and messed it up even further.

“No but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Harding thinks I’m severely paranoid but can she really blame me? Can anyone? I’m over thinking it. Right?”

The pure look of torment on the mage’s face pierced Fenris. He hadn’t seen the mage this much of a mess in a _long_ time.

Anders was breaking.

“You know where I stand with any magister here…if you accepted the magister’s request then you should remain cautious around him. Keep your staff with you at all times.”

“Do you think Dorian would turn against Harding’s people? Or turn them against her? Fenris, you could be in danger too if Dorian finds out you’re here or if he tells anyone.”

“If he’s foolish enough to tell anyone then I’ll rip out his heart.”

“Fenris.”

Fenris waved a dismissive hand. “Mage, I am _always_ in danger. This is nothing new.”

Anders dropped his hands against the mattress in exasperation. “Why isn’t anyone taking this seriously? You, Harding, Maker even _Dorian_ was completely blasé when he told me he knew.”

“Harding’s trust in him gives me some peace of mind but I do not intend on dropping my guard and neither should you. If anything happens we will fight together.”

“How? You haven’t even walked yet.”

“…I see Orana did not tell you then.”

“Tell me what?”

Fenris leaned forward slightly and stage-whispered, “I walked.”

Anders blinked and the darkness in his expression softened as he looked at the warrior in confusion. “What?”

“Orana helped me – a fact my pride would usually not care to admit. It was only a few steps and I felt like shit during it…but I did it.”

The way Fenris said it made Anders think that Fenris did not see it as much of an achievement. But to a healer who had not predicted Fenris capable of walking for at least three more days of rest, it was a miracle. For the first time that evening Anders _really_ looked at Fenris. He saw the faint sheen of sweat that still lingered. He took in the weary way Fenris had sunken deeper into the mattress since he walked in. Fenris was physically exhausted and it showed.

“Fenris, that’s…that’s amazing. How…?” His voice trailed off in wonder and Fenris cleared his throat at the unexpected awe from the mage.

“Probably because of these markings. They do heighten my abilities if I allow them to. Although Orana would probably say it was my sheer stubbornness alone.”

“If you would like, and if you are up for it, we can try again tomorrow.”

The change of conversation seemed to have turned the mage’s mood around. Anders no longer looked as close to the end of his rope as he had before – instead he now looked excited at the prospect of Fenris truly having a speedy recovery. The thought of leaning on Anders instead of Orana for support tickled something in the back of Fenris’s mind but he shrugged to appear nonchalant.

“Sure, if you are available.”

Anders’s brow furrowed. “I am sorry I returned to you so late by the way. I should have been here sooner.”

“It was no matter. You had a lot going on.”

“Still, what good am I if I can’t attend to my patients?”

Anders had tried to joke it off but there was an edge to his voice that made Fenris want to wipe away the mage’s frown. Anders was far too distraught for his own good. Fenris looked down at where Anders’s hands were bunched up in fists on the mattress. He bit the inside of his lip as he debated. Fenris reached out and placed a hand over the mage’s. As expected, Anders quickly looked up at him and the self-deprecating expression melted away into one of confusion and alertness.

“Mage, you need rest. Go to your bunk or office or wherever you sleep in this place and try to get some genuine rest.”

“I will not let anyone harm you.”

“I know.”

The amount of conviction in Fenris’s voice surprised both of them but Anders was grateful for it. The heaviness between them was back as neither broke eye contact. In that moment Anders wished that they didn’t have the past they had – he wished he could lean forward and press his forehead against Fenris’s and just breathe in the elf for comfort.

“Fenris…”

Anders’s voice had lowered in both pitch and volume and the sound gripped at Fenris, pulling him in. The elf waited but after a moment Anders blinked and seemed to find himself again. The mage let out a small puff of air and shook his head. He leaned back in the chair and raised his hands, breaking the spell.

Fenris found himself disappointed that Anders hadn’t finished his thought. Fenris figured whatever it was it was probably just another declaration, another promise, to protect him. He didn’t probe the mage but instead let Anders finish the inspection of his wounds. When the mage was done, Anders nodded to himself.

“Walking didn’t aggravate your injuries, which is good. If you want to try again tomorrow, we can.”

Anders didn’t immediately move to stand and leave the room which caused Fenris to lift an eyebrow. Anders seemed to be debating with himself internally over something.

“Do you think…?”

Fenris inclined his head at the unfinished question but Anders shook his head and said, “Nothing, never mind.”

“Speak your mind, Mage.”

Anders would have laughed at the irony of the command - Fenris would have given anything during their days in Kirkwall to get him to _stop_ speaking his mind - if he wasn't so emotionally constipated.

“Do you think…if we had met in a tavern in Minrathous four or five days ago instead of under these circumstances…what do you think would have happened?”

Fenris bit the inside of his lip as he thought about the question. It was one he had asked himself several times over in the past few days. “What would you have wanted to happen?”

“I would have liked to share a pint. Swap stories about the glory days of old, find out what you have been up to…ask you more about…well, everything.”

Fenris _hmm_ -ed in response and gave a nod. “Would’ve been nice.” A silence stretched between them and it made Fenris antsy. He decided to add, “We can still do that.”

“You mean that?” Although Anders spoke it more like a statement than a question.

Fenris nodded again and Anders watched his bangs swish lightly. “Certainly.”

“Well that…that does indeed sound nice. Perhaps when you are a bit better and can consume alcohol.”  

They were both blushing lightly although Fenris swore he wasn’t. He wondered if maybe, just _maybe_ , they could get through this.  


	8. You Bloody Hypocrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet a familiar face while Harding and Fenris exchange letters.

Anders did not sleep as well as he wanted. His dreams were plagued with reminders of his days as a Grey Warden of all things. When he awoke he saw that the sun had not yet even begun pouring its rays through the window in his office. Giving a sigh, Anders rose from the mattress in the corner of his office and moved to the attached bathroom to bathe and shave. He hadn’t had a chance yesterday and the five o’clock shadow that had graced his features was proof of that. The oils supplied to him smelled of apricots and vandal arias. It was soothing and as Anders washed himself, he sent a silent thank you to whoever might be listening for the simple accommodations he had been blessed with. During his time in Kirkwall, he slept on an uncomfortable cot and hardly ever had the chance to bathe in a proper tub.

Drying off, Anders looked at himself in the mirror that hung on the wall across from the tub. Deep scars covered his shoulders and torso from during and before his Kirkwall days. He had had his ears pierced before he went to Kirkwall but the holes had long since closed up. Anders contemplated re-piercing them. It wouldn’t hurt compared to the other pain he had gone through in his life. Another pierced ear flashed briefly through his mind and Anders rested his forearm against the top of the mirror and leaned in closer to the glass. Did he wear earrings during his days in Kirkwall? Had Fenris seen him with jewelry on? Anders couldn’t remember. _Why is this important?_ He shook his head and supposed it wasn’t.

His now-darker hair had grown longer since his Kirkwall days – now it hung past his shoulders. Anders ran his fingers through it briefly and wondered how it would feel to have someone else play with it. He had always loved it when others ran their fingers through his hair. Again, he thought of a pair of emerald eyes and a slightly throaty voice. Anders shivered and released his hair in order to tie it up neatly. _No time for those kinds of thoughts right now._ Giving his appearance another look, Anders went to his wardrobe with the towel around his waist. He took out a medical coat with the _Thekla Clinic_ insignia, a pair of charcoal leggings, and a burgundy tunic. After Anders got dressed he moved to leave the office but remembered what Fenris had said. Returning to his mattress, Anders reached down and picked up his staff from where he kept it beside the bed. Without another thought, he left his office and made his way down to the burn ward.

The room was pretty empty when he entered it. Only four patients lay sleeping in their beds. One or two nurses flitted about but otherwise it was pretty calm for this time of early morning.

Remarkably, Krem Aclassi had survived the night. His breathing was incredibly shallow and he was shivering slightly. Anders pulled the blanket further up the man’s body to keep him warm. He hadn’t woken up yet but his eyes moved under his eyelids to show he was dreaming. Krem’s gender was of no consequence to Anders – he had had many trans patients over the years and one’s gender had never really been of any importance to him. The only thing he cared about with any patient was curing them of their ailments and keeping them alive.

Anders cocked his hip and bit his lip as he looked down at Krem. His meeting with Dorian was still fresh in his mind and although talking to Fenris about it had calmed him down slightly, he was still on edge. This Charger didn’t seem to be a threat but Anders could never be too careful.

“You’ve taken good care of my boy, I see.”

The voice startled Anders and instantly he gripped his staff and adjusted his stance to one of defense. His brow knitted in confusion as the form of a hulking Qunari stepped forward from behind a privacy curtain. The ceiling of the burn ward had been specifically built to accommodate the tall forms of the Qunari people so the newcomer didn’t need to hunch over. He was shirtless save for an odd accessory covering his left shoulder. His wide belt was as thick as his biceps and he wore a pair of loose, green and red striped pants.

He held up his hands quickly and replied to Anders’s change in stance with, “Doc, relax. I’m not here to pick a fight. If I were, you would have been dead already.”

Anders didn’t lower his staff. “Who are you?”

“The Iron Bull. I’m the head of the Chargers and this one’s boss,” Bull replied with a nod of his head to Krem. “Dorian told me about your meeting with him and I figured it would be more…beneficial for you if I came here myself to back up his claim. We’re really not here to sell you out.”

Anders tensed as Bull moved closer but the Qunari simply grabbed a chair and pulled it up to sit beside Krem’s body.

“How much longer ‘till he’s better?”

Anders looked between Bull and Krem and said after a moment, “He needs rest and time to heal. I wouldn’t send him immediately back to the front lines if I were you. With a steady supply of proper healing potions, he should be good for release by the end of the week.”

“ _Tch_ , he’s always getting himself into trouble. Too busy worrying about everyone else on the field to watch his back. I’ve told him a hundred times to watch his flank but does he listen to me?”

Bull’s words were gruff but Anders saw the fondness and worry stemming from the Qunari as he gazed at the Charger. It reminded him of the way Dorian looked at Krem only deeper.

“You’ve been together for many years then?”

“You betcha. Before the Inquisition even formed I was rescuing his ass. My men and I have been through a lot which is why I need to be able to trust you and your facility here. I know Harding’s got her people here too, and that’s reassuring to me.” The Qunari met Anders’s gaze steadily. “I appreciate you doing this for me. I was skeptical about you at first, but not for the Kirkwall thing.”

Anders bristled and immediately looked around. However, the nurses had left the room, probably to give them privacy, and his other patients were still unconscious.

“Then why be skeptical?”

“When I was with the Inquisiton, they didn’t have many _healers_ per say. We relied mostly on potions. The healers that _I’ve_ known have always been very skilled with knowing the anatomy. I was afraid that Krem might get a little _too_ comfortable here if you get my drift.”

The Qunari managed to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively and Anders instantly blushed.

“I don’t – that is – we don’t offer _that_ kind of healing here!”

“You don’t? Ah, a damn shame then. When I heard from Dorian about him coming here, he had hinted at otherwise. I guess not every patient can get a ‘happy ending’ from one of his doctors, _hmm_?”

Anders spluttered and the Qunari let out a booming laugh that made several patients shuffle in their sleep.

“Damn, you are precious. Not unlike Dorian before he had a chance to ride the bull.” Bull winked at him and stood. “Well, now that I’ve checked in on this one, I had better head back out there. Oh and don’t tell Krem I came by. I don’t want him getting all soft thinking I care or anything.” The Qunari’s gaze was soft as he looked at Krem before holding out his hand for Anders to shake. “Thanks again, Doc. For all of this.”

Anders was tempted to inform the visitor that he hadn’t in fact agreed to taking in the Chargers for treatment, but he figured he didn’t really have much of a choice as he shook hands with the Iron Bull.

“Oh and just so we’re on the same page, I don’t give a shit about what you did or didn’t do before coming here and neither does Dorian. We all got our pasts and anyone who talks shit about what you’ve done is a damn hypocrite. So don’t worry about _that_ , okay?”

Anders watched in wonder as Bull waved a hand in farewell before leaving the clinic.

**XXXXXX**

_“Your sister’s a mage? You bloody hypocrite! You really are just jealous!”_

_The words stung and he grimaced. It wasn’t that simple. Damn the mage for trying to label it so simply. He didn’t know what he was talking about._

_“You have no idea what we went through. What I’ve had to do since mother died. This was my only chance.”_

_“And now you have no chance at all.”_

_He stalked closer to her, lyrium markings lighting aflame as his anger consumed him._

_“Please, don’t do this. Please, tell him to stop!”_

_Hawke made no move forward and replied to her plea, “After what you’ve done?”_

_He looked his sister in the eyes as he raised his hand._

_“I would have given you everything.”_

_He ripped the heart from her and watched as her lifeless body crumpled to the floor._

**XXXXXX**

Fenris awoke with a start and his breathing was heavy. The memory had caused him to break out in a cold sweat. Shaking slightly, Fenris reached up and ran a hand through his hair, resting his forehead against his palm. The nightmares were common but this was the first time in a while he had dreamed of the night he killed his sister. A gentle knock on the door caused him to quickly look up in fear, but it was only Orana who poked her head in the room.

“Serrah, are you alright? I heard thrashing.”

“Ah, Orana. It was just…I am fine. Just a nightmare.”

The sight of her reminded him so much of his sister. The same fragile frame, the elven blood, the large eyes…Only Orana would never act as selfishly as his sister had. Orana was pure and kind and humble.

“Can I get you anyth–”

“No.”

Orana bit her lip but receded from the room. Fenris growled before taking his pillow and hurling it across the room in anger. Kirkwall had been a long time ago. Danarius, and any biological family members Fenris might still have, were all dead. Fenris was on his own once more but now he had total freedom and was using said freedom to release other slaves from their captivity. His life in Kirkwall was over and now he had only the success of the Inquisition to look forward to. This was his life, his mission, now and there was no room in it for any reminders of Kirkwall.

Well, except for the damn apostate in charge of the clinic who had blown up a sizeable chunk of said city.

Fenris groaned and let his head fall against the palms of both his hands in misery.

_“Your sister’s a mage? You bloody hypocrite! You really are just jealous!”_

During his time in Kirkwall, both he and Anders had said such awful things to one another over the years. It had been easy to channel all of their respective hatred and sorrow out on one another with cruel remarks. Looking back now, Fenris knew he couldn’t really blame Anders for thinking the way he did in that moment. It wasn’t like they had really tried that hard to peacefully understand one another. And Fenris supposed that Anders had been right, in a way. If he had had magic then maybe he would have been able to stand up to Danarius sooner or find greater strength to walk away sooner than he did. Maybe if he had had magic then he could have frozen or stunned the guards long enough to sneak out his sister and his mother from Danarius’s clutches. There were a lot of ‘what ifs’ in his life that perhaps could have been solved quicker or easier with the help of magic.

But Fenris didn’t _want_ magic. In truth, he didn’t trust it. And he knew that if he _did_ have magic, then he probably would have wound up loathing himself more than he already did. He was a walking lyrium bomb waiting to explode and if he had magic, he would probably be that much more dangerous to others _and_ to himself. Plus, if he had had magic then Danarius probably would have tried to find a way to make _him_ a magister in the man’s place and that would have meant just spending more time at his ex-master’s mercy.

Fenris took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

A gentle knock at the door made him look up again and Orana quickly walked in rather sheepishly to hand him a letter.

“It’s from Her Ladyship the Spymaster.”

Orana turned and quickly left, leaving him to look down at the letter.

_Dear Fenris,_

_How are you holding up? I hope you’re feeling better. We miss you out here. Everyone’s doing well. Cullen reports that they freed a total of thirty slaves in the last two days alone to join our cause. Josephine is working on establishing places for them to create homes of their own after this is all over. It’s rather remarkable, really, and I think you would be very proud of our progress. (Although you would probably whine it’s not enough progress, but I digress.)_

_I don’t think you ever met the Iron Bull and his Chargers during your short time here at Skyhold, but they’re going to start being treated at the clinic whenever they get too injured. They won’t hurt you, do not worry. Too many of Bull’s people were once slaves so he sympathizes with your cause. From what my troops tell me, you haven’t left your room yet which is good. It means that there is a lesser chance of those who we do not want to notice you being there, noticing you being there. Regardless, I’ve doubled my patrol of the clinic with my most trusted agents._

_…I fear I might have been a bit ignorant to your doctor’s feelings when we last spoke. Could you perhaps put in a good word for me? I really feel bad about it and I want to apologize but he isn’t taking my messages. I just…he needs people there for him and I would like to consider myself one of those people. I do not want bad blood between us._

_P.S. I’m still expecting an answer to my last letter about what he’s_ really _like._

_Your Trusty Spymaster,_

_Lace Harding_

It took Fenris over a half hour to decipher the entire letter. When he did, he read it over twice for good measure and couldn’t help but smile. Reading it was a good distraction from his dreams and Lace’s words were comforting. He could picture her up in her tower scrawling the letter out like a worrisome mother hen. He took a blank sheet of paper and a quill and thought about what he wanted to write back.

_Spymaster Harding,_

_Thank you for the report. I do indeed wish that more progress was being made, however I suppose that with myself out of commission, I will have to settle. Let Cullen know that I am sorry I cannot be out there with him. How are you and the Inquisitor doing?_

_I hardly doubt I’ll have the fortune of meeting any of the Chargers, so their presence here does not affect me. I trust your opinion of them…for now. Though I am naturally weary of this Dorian fellow._

_As for your P.S., the jury is still mulling their decision over. He is…complicated. Different but…familiar. I haven’t wanted to rip his heart out yet, so that is something I suppose._

_~~Do you think~~ …would I have been a better asset to the Inquisition if I had magic?_

_Sincerely,_

_Lieutenant-Commander Fenris_

Fenris had just finished writing the letter when Orana entered with his breakfast. He folded the letter neatly and traded it for his food. Before Orana could leave, Fenris called for her to wait. She turned and looked at him inquisitively as he sighed.

“I am sorry for being so short with you earlier. You did not deserve it.”

“It is no matter, Serrah.”

“No, I was in the wrong. Please forgive me.”

“O-of course, Serrah.”

As he ate his breakfast, Fenris mulled over Harding’s letter and tried to ignore the nagging of his dream in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine that their days in Kirkwall haunt both of them, as well as the other companions from DA2 so I kind of wanted to explore that a bit in this chapter. I'm not sure I explained Fenris's reaction to that memory/dream that well, but oh well. I'll make it better for the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this and liked seeing Iron Bull!


	9. You Must Have Some Desires...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Justice and Anders helps Fenris walk....teehee.

After his introduction to Bull, Anders decided to go to the research labs and do some work before seeing Fenris. He hadn’t been able to accomplish much in the last two days and he knew Justice would be frustrated with him. He took the stairs that led down to the dungeon-level labs and opened the heavy oak doors to find a fluffy Maine Coon cat waiting for him impatiently. It was black with silver tufts of fur streaked through the midnight coloring. Its remarkably blue eyes matched the color of Fenris’s lyrium markings.

“YOU’RE LATE.”

The thunderous voice would have probably seemed comical coming from such a tiny, fluffy form, but Anders had long-since grown used to it. He gave a sigh and closed the door behind him.

“I am sorry for my tardiness. A few important things came up and I could not return.”

“I HAD DIFFICULTY TURNING PAGES. WHATEVER IT WAS COULD HAVE WAITED UNTIL YOU CAME HERE FIRST AND DEALT WITH THIS.”

Anders gave a huff and followed Justice to where he had been researching until the terrible struggle of having paws for hands had paws-d his work. A pile of books were spread around in a circle, all open to various sections discussing tranquility.

“THE SEEKERS HAVE BEEN GENEROUS TO LEND ME THEIR FINDINGS. ALTHOUGH I’M SURE THAT IF SEEKER PENTAGHAST KNEW YOU WERE THE ONE RESEARCHING THIS ALONGSIDE ME THEN SHE WOULD BE VERY UPSET ABOUT IT. THAT SPYMASTER’S SILENCE IS VERY GENEROUS.”

Anders gave another huff as he sat down beside the cat to pick up a book. “What’s our current progress?”

“WE KNOW THERE IS A CURE AND WE KNOW HOW TO PERFORM IT BUT WE DO NOT KNOW ITS EFFECTIVENESS. THE SEEKERS ARE TESTING IT ON WILLING SUBJECTS BUT THEY HAVE NOT RELEASED MANY FINDINGS ABOUT THE RESULTS OF THESE EXPERIMENTS. YOU SHOULD WRITE TO THAT SPYMASTER AND SEE IF SHE CAN GIVE YOU MORE INFORMATION.”

The memory of his strained conversation with Lace made Anders wince as he flipped a page in the book. “That will be slightly awkward, but I will give it a go. The cause demands it.”

“WE ARE IN TEVINTER. MAGIC IS NOT FORSAKEN HERE. OUR CAUSE IS TO REVERSE THE RITE OF TRANQUILITY AND SPREAD IT ACROSS THEDAS TO ENSURE MAGES NEVER SUFFER THAT INJUSTICE AGAIN.”

Justice stood on his paws a little straighter as he repeated their little mantra. Anders couldn’t help but smile fondly. He reached out and gave the cat a scratch behind the ears.

Anders’s research into a better way to co-exist with the spirit inside of him had led him to a spell found in Tevinter that _should have_ separated his and Justice’s minds in a way that allowed them to both inhabit the same body but not overpower one another with their thoughts and feelings. However, when Anders had performed the spell, it, like so many other factors of his life, had gone awry. Justice’s mind was separated from Anders’s body entirely and had entered the body of an unfortunate passerby – one adorable Main Coon kitty. Anders’s Tevene had apparently been shit and he had bludgeoned the spell. Now, Justice worked in the research labs of the clinic to assist the Seekers in finding a way to reverse the Rite of Tranquility while Anders simultaneously helped his patients recover. It was a good flow and one that proved less of a strain on Anders than he had experienced in Kirkwall. When the most serious of injuries were taken care of, it allowed Anders the time to go down to the labs and perform his research.

While the Seekers knew that Justice, a spirit of the Fade who had assisted in stopping the Blight, was their main colleague in determining a cure, they did not know about Anders. Cassandra most likely assumed Justice was similar to Cole – a spirit trapped in human form who merely wanted to help those around him. It was an incredibly complex system of secrets established by the Inquisitor and Spymaster Harding.

Anders soon got lost in his research, occasionally trading remarks and thoughts with Justice as they worked. The Seekers were not all magic-users and Justice’s connection to, and knowledge of, the Fade was invaluable. Because he was a mage and a human with opposable thumbs, Anders was able to offer his own two cents while transcribing Justice’s letters to the Seekers. It was an efficient system, one that saw frequent replies from both sides of the table.

By the time Anders thought to look at the time, it was nearly noon.

“Oh no, I’m going to be late!”

“WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS?” Justice scolded with an irritated flick of his poofy tail.

“My patients need me.”

Anders stood and gave Justice another scratch behind the ears, promising to return soon. Justice gave him a skeptical glare which he ignored on the cat and hurried from the room.

**XXXXXXXXX**

By noon, Fenris had grown impatient of waiting for Anders to assist him. He had stubbornly refused Orana’s help and had sent her away quickly so that he could be alone once more. He felt a bit more confidant in himself today, knowing he had already accomplished this feat once. Taking a deep breath, Fenris began the arduous process of sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. By the time he had managed the feat, the room was slightly spinning and his body was gripped in a throbbing pain. But he did not have the urge to puke, so Fenris considered that an accomplishment at least. Just as he had placed his feet on the floor, the door flew open.

“I am so sorry for being late, my research held me up –” Anders was cut off as he took in the sight of Fenris sitting up in bed. “Does it hurt? How do you feel?”

The mage rushed to his side at the bed and Fenris couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Between you and Orana worrying over me constantly, it will take years before I can gain any level of independence back.”

Anders ignored the quip as he sat on the bed beside Fenris. The close proximity made Fenris slightly uncomfortable. Though the warrior secretly craved intimacy, he was still adverse to touch. Just holding the mage’s hand last night had been a big step for Fenris. The memory of his dream flashed through his mind and Fenris stubbornly looked away from Anders.

“Some pain in my stomach but nothing life-threatening. I am going to stand.”

“Whoa, slow down – there’s no rush!”

But Fenris had already begun slowly rising to stand. A part of him wanted to prove that he was capable of doing this without magic. He didn’t need magic to be strong. Anders quickly leapt up as if the bed had burned him and stood in front of Fenris. He held out his arms the way Orana had done for Fenris to grab. Fenris ignored the appendages and instead used the bed as leverage the way he had done yesterday to push himself up. The muscles in his shoulders strained at the effort. Just as Fenris was about to make it to his full height, he swayed violently as the room spun a bit faster. Instantly Anders reached out and steadied him. The mage’s hands secured under Fenris’s biceps and Fenris had reached out blindly to grab onto the mage’s shoulders.

Anders thought briefly of what Bull had said about his patients getting a ‘happy ending’ and he blushed right down to his toes as Fenris’s fingers dug into his shoulders. The heat coming off of the warrior was too much and Anders had to bite his lip to keep himself from making a sound.

Fenris wasn’t the only one who wanted intimacy.

Fenris didn’t notice the mage’s physical reaction at being so close – he was too busy willing his stomach to keep its contents down so that he would not vomit all over the mage. Taking a few deep breaths, Fenris focused on the warmth on his biceps coming from the mage’s touch. His arms tingled as the lyrium markings almost vibrated from where the mage’s touch contacted them.

They stayed like that for a minute, Fenris regaining his wits as he clung to Anders, until the mage whispered his name.

“Fenris.”

The elf looked up and into his eyes and it occurred to Fenris in that moment how close they were standing. Fenris quickly looked back down, his bangs swishing to hide his gaze, but he could feel Anders’s gaze burning into him.

“Do you want to keep going?”

The question was soft and Fenris hated how kind Anders was being. He hated the way the mage had become so much softer since Kirkwall – so much more understanding. He hated the way Anders was being so damn _patient_ with him. He hated the way Anders took so much care to make sure he was comfortable – to always get his consent before healing him.

Fenris thought back to the way Anders had been in his dream and decided that it would have been so much easier now if Anders _hadn’t_ changed. If the mage was still as difficult to understand and to get through as he had been during the early Kirkwall years. If Anders hadn’t been so fucking _kind_ to him since his coming to the clinic, then maybe Fenris wouldn’t be feeling this electrified by the mage’s touch.

Fenris wanted the ground to rise up and swallow him up so that he wouldn’t have to feel Anders’s worried gaze piercing a hole in him.

“I’m fine.” Fenris winced internally at the way he spat the words. He slid his somewhat shaky hands from the mage’s shoulders and took a breath before standing to his full height. Likewise, Anders let go of him and lowered his arms but kept them at the ready in case Fenris stumbled again.

Fenris turned to the side and tentatively took a step forward. The pain had settled into a dull throbbing but wasn’t unbearable the way it was yesterday. Fenris took another step. Then another.

The room started to spin a bit but it wasn’t as drastic as when he had first stood up. Fenris knew he was probably swaying a bit by the way Anders kept close to him, ready to catch him, but he kept moving. Fenris managed to make it across the room to where he had thrown his pillow earlier before he swayed violently again. Instantly Anders was there, wrapping his arm around Fenris’s waist and putting one of the elf’s arms around his neck the way Orana had done.

“Easy there, Fenris. You’re doing great, but don’t push yourself.”

The words were almost whispered reverently in Fenris’s ear by the angle of the mage beside him. Fenris shivered. He needed distance – he needed to get out of there. But there was nowhere for him to go. Fenris wanted to return to his bed just to put some damn space between him and the mage that was currently flooding his senses into overdrive. Anders was too close, too warm, too caring.

Fenris cursed the way his body leaned ever-so-slightly into the mage’s touch as Anders steadied him.

“Take a minute to breathe and then you can try to make the trip back to bed. How’s the pain?”

_Just fucking stop talking_ , Fenris thought miserably as he wished for the mage to be silent. His words were all softly spoken into the elf’s ear and it was driving Fenris crazy. Anders was talking far too much – all of this was far too much.

“Not as bad as yesterday,” Fenris choked out and he cursed at the harshness of his voice.

Anders nodded and gently lowered Fenris’s arm from around his neck. His hand stayed on the elf’s hip, steadying him as Anders took a step behind him to give him some space.

Fenris immediately wanted his arm back around the mage and he scowled at his mixed feelings.

Misunderstanding the elf’s scowl, Anders said, “I’ll be right here if you fall. Try to walk back to the bed.”

With that, Anders gave his hip the smallest of squeezes before releasing the elf entirely.

The loss of touch allowed Fenris to breathe in deeply through his nose. Without the overwhelming of his senses by the mage, Fenris was able to blink some of the dizziness away. He focused on the bed, only about six feet away from him, and nodded to himself. He could make the journey without the help of the mage.

Fenris took a step forward but when he started to sway, he quickly held up a hand to Anders to stop the mage from coming to his rescue. Fenris took another few breaths and steadied himself. He took another step. He took another. It took what felt like a month, but Fenris eventually made it to the bed by himself.

Anders was beside him in a heartbeat and his excited voice seeped into every fiber of Fenris’s body.

“You did it! I’ve never seen a patient accomplish something like that in such short a time! Fenris, you’re a miracle! That was marvelous!”

Fenris turned to tell the mage just to _be quiet_ for once and stop flooding his senses, but as soon as he did, he saw the pure joy in those amber eyes. Anders was smiling, and not one of his half-smiles he used to do in Kirkwall. The mage was positively beaming.

Fenris’s words died on his lips as he took in the sight of his doctor.

_Lovely._

Fenris blinked at the confession of his own brain and quickly tore his gaze away from Anders. _No, he’s not that. You’re just delusional and exhausted._

Anders helped Fenris get into bed and excitedly said, “If you are up to it, we can try again later, after dinner. But I totally understand if you want more rest. Your body is probably exhausted and –”

“No, I would like to try again later.”

A blush had sprouted out on the elf’s face and Fenris refused to meet the mage’s eyes.

Anders blinked and couldn’t stop the smile that stayed on his face as he chuckled lightly. The sound wasn’t degrading but more like a laugh of pure awe.

“You truly are the most stubborn elf in all of Thedas.”

Anders pulled the blanket up and over Fenris. Giving him another fond smile, he said, “I’m going to go check on the Charger that came in a while ago, but I’ll be back to check on you after you’ve had dinner. Get some rest, alright?”

Fenris was tempted to reply sarcastically that there was nothing else to do in the room _but_ rest, but the mage was being so kind and he didn’t deserve the elf’s snark. So instead Fenris just nodded and turned his head away from the mage in dismissal. He didn’t trust his words at that moment.

Anders chuckled again and gave Fenris a mock salute before leaving the room.

The elf groaned as soon as he was gone. Why did the mage have to be so insufferable?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've always had a weak spot for Cat!Justice and I've been toying for a while with the idea of what to do about Justice in this fic, so I decided to make him a kitty. I hope I wrote the interaction between Fenris and Anders alright. Let me know what you thought and as always, thank you for your reviews and kudos!!


	10. We Have Important Things To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krem is a precious cinnamon bun and Justice is a fiery cat who lacks patience.

When Anders went to check on Krem, he found the Charger awake and talking to Doctor Melaya, a human known for her excellence with protective charms and spells. When he saw Anders approaching, Krem tried to sit up a bit straighter but Melaya gently put a hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements. She looked at him as if to say it was okay and Krem looked down in embarrassment when Anders reached his side.

“I’m sorry I can’t salute you, Doc. Dr. Melaya here says you and my fellow Vint worked very hard to keep me alive. I am thankful for it.”

Krem held out his hand and Anders shook it warmly. It wasn’t that often that his patients were as grateful as Krem was and it made his smile broaden.

“No problem. Your injuries are still serious, so you have to stay here and rest for a few days. Doctor’s orders.”

Krem glanced at Dr. Melaya from the corner of his eye and let a little smile tug at his lips.

“I guess I’ll have to find a way to manage then.”

Dr. Melaya giggled and quickly left them alone. Krem was blushing lightly and Anders couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Were _all_ of the Chargers complete flirts? Anders raised his hands and his magic danced over Krem’s body as he checked the soldier’s wounds.

“Your boss stopped by to check on you, by the way. Told me not to tell you, but I figured you would want to know.”

“He didn’t have to do that,” Krem muttered. “He has more important stuff going on elsewhere. How is he?”

“I hadn’t had the honor of meeting him before, so I couldn’t really tell you. He was happy to see you alive and well though.”

“ _Venhedis_ , I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble when he came by. Chief’s got a way of causing a big commotion wherever he goes.”

Anders chuckled at that and finished his examination. “No, no, he was relatively quiet, all things considered. He was no trouble.”

Krem seemed to relax at that and Anders found he liked this one out of all the native-Tevinters he had met so far the best. There was something about Krem that he just connected with. The man was a soldier but a _free_ soldier who had a very honest and strong nature about him. Anders was typically a good judge of character and he decided that he would put a little extra effort into speeding Krem’s recovery along.

“I’m glad to hear it. Chief really does watch out for all of us. He’s good, you know? It’s an honor to fight alongside him.” Krem cleared his throat and somewhat shuffled awkwardly in bed. “Although you must hear the same kind of prattle from soldiers who come in here all the time about their bosses.”

Anders was reminded not of typical soldiers he healed, but of a very specific warrior who would have given anything to have defended Hawke’s life.

“You’d be surprised. I meet very few who are completely dedicated to their leader. Bull is lucky to have you in his group – and I think he knows that. You’ll be up and back in the fray in no time, Krem.”

Krem beamed at that and Anders couldn’t help but return the smile. The Iron Bull’s parting words had comforted him a bit and after seeing how genuinely good of a person Krem was, Anders felt just a tiny bit better about the whole situation.

Anders bade Krem a farewell and moved on to check the other patients in the unit. After he was done there, he made his way to the regular wards of the clinic and began his rounds. The regular doctors he had hired were all experts who knew what they were doing, so there wasn’t really much need for Anders to circulate on the regular floors of the clinic. However, he enjoyed doing so anyway. It gave him the opportunity to keep a constant eye on things and he liked being able to meet different patients native to Tevinter. Of course they had probably heard of the famed apostate from the Free Marches who had the entire ‘Heretic Chantry’ chasing after him, but none of them knew his face or voice. And he rarely saw the same face twice. After his rounds were done, Anders headed back down to continue his work with Justice. He had only two or so hours left to work on his research before he had to reconvene with Fenris.

**XXXXXX**

“YOU ARE DISTRACTED.”

Anders jumped at the voice. Guiltily, he looked back down at the book and realized he hadn’t turned the page in several minutes. It was true that he had been distracted by a set of emerald eyes and a deep voice that sent shivers through him, but he wasn’t about to tell Justice that.

“Sorry. Some of my patients have me concerned.”

“YOU DO WHAT YOU CAN AND THAT IS THAT. FOCUS YOUR ATTENTION HERE AND ON THIS WHERE YOU CAN DO SOME GOOD.”

Anders smirked to himself as he flipped the page of his book. Justice had always been a one-track mind kind of fellow. Although Anders supposed that once he had come off that way as well.

He started reading again but soon his mind starting wandering to memories of fingers gripping him tightly and a close warmth pressed against his side. It would have been so easy to turn his head a bit and capture those lips…

“YOU ARE DOING IT AGAIN. THIS BEHAVIOR CONCERNS ME.”

“Perhaps I am just tired. Sleep did not come easy to me last night. I think I might try to nap.”

“NAP? THERE IS NO TIME FOR NAPPING! THE WORK NEEDS YOU!”

Anders let out a sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. He knew the importance of this research more than anyone, but he also knew that if he didn’t get some sleep then Karl’s ghost would probably rise up somehow and haunt him for working too hard. Even during their shared days in the Circle, Karl had always badgered him about working too hard. The memory was bittersweet and it made Anders feel guilty about needing some rest.

“I’ll be back after dinner.”

“BE ON TIME THIS TIME.”

Anders rolled his eyes and headed up to his office. As soon as he had closed the door, Anders gently folded his medical coat and placed it on his desk. He rested his staff next to his cot and lay down on his side.

_Karl._

He knew that his friend would have wanted him to move on by now. He knew that Karl would have wanted him happily in a relationship by now, maybe even with a family of his own. Anders couldn’t bear to think of what Karl would have said about the explosion in Kirkwall. Would Karl have supported his decision? Anders wasn’t sure. He couldn’t really _be_ sure. Karl had always had a slightly rebellious side to him during their Circle days, but to consider Anders’s actions in Kirkwall…perhaps the mage might have thought what Anders did to have been _too_ rebellious. Shameful. The thought had plagued him throughout his years in Kirkwall and even after the event had happened, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it now.

Anders rolled onto his back with a sigh. He freed his hair and ran a hand through it. So much time had passed but sometimes it felt as if it hadn’t.

Anders closed his eyes and willed the Fade to greet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many of you are liking Cat!Justice haha. Isn't he a righteous cutie? This chapter is really short but next chapter gets kind of steamy as Anders dreams....just so you know ;)


	11. Nothing Is Ever Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Because I’ve lost everyone else. I thought I lost you too, but you came back into my life. Not under terms I would have liked, but you’re here. And I’m here. And we’re both broken but trying to do right by the world and by each other. And maybe…maybe you can learn to understand me. And maybe I can try again to get to understand you. Maybe we can have a second chance at this. At all of this.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, but this chapter is pretty long to make up for it. This chapter also gets quite steamy and if you aren't into heavy making out, skip the italicized bit at the beginning. With that being said, I hope you enjoy it and as always, thank you for your kudos and reviews! Things start picking up in the Fenders relationship here.

_A pair of gentle hands glided down his chest, pausing in their journey to rub slow circles around his nipples. He moaned as fingers tweaked and pulled gently, causing the buds to harden. The teasing hands continued their ministrations until he was panting slightly and squirming from stimulation. The hands continued down his rippling pectorals to ghost over his slender hips. They squeezed there while pinning his hips down against the mat. Fingers dug in, leaving bruises for tomorrow. One hand stayed on his hip, holding him there, while the other reached up and wrapped around both his wrists, pinning his arms to the mat above his head. His body arched in response. He felt a hot breath on his neck and he moaned as a body pressed itself against his. The hand that had been on his hip slid up his torso to grip his neck. With a flick of the thumb, his chin was tilted away to expose his neck. The hot mouth began sucking deep marks into his neck. He moaned again, slightly louder than before, as dark hickeys blossomed across his neck and collarbone. That mouth traveled across his skin, savoring the light sheen of sweat that had broken out across him. A tongue trailed from the dip in his collarbone up his neck to his ear and he shivered under the touch._

_“Please.”_

_He sounded like such a basic whore with his need but he didn’t care. His erection was trapped between their stomachs and he longed to stroke himself. His hands were clawing at the tight skin of the muscular back on top of him._

_He felt that sexy pair of lips smirk against his skin. That mouth drifted down his body, taking its time to lick and suck on his nipples and the skin around them. His moan was sinful as he arched up again into the touch. The mouth continued further down, reaching his navel and brushing the light blonde hairs beneath it. The mouth moved up his shaft and hesitated over his erection. He watched in awe as a single drip of spit dropped from that enticing mouth onto the head of his dick._

_He groaned in anticipation as a pair of emerald eyes met his._

**XXXXX**

Anders awoke suddenly in a sweat. His hardness was pulsing and he could still feel Dream-Fenris’s body against him. Shaking, Anders reached into his pants and gripped himself firmly. It only took a few strokes for him to come with a muffled cry. Breathing heavily through his nose, Anders collapsed against the mattress and willed his heart to slow down. Admittedly, he had had wet dreams about a few of his companions during his Kirkwall days – Fenris being one of them – but it had been so long that he had assumed his mind was done with dreams about any of them. _Now_ , however, with the recent way Fenris was distracting him and making him feel, he reasoned his dreams were sensible. Unwarranted, but sensible. Anders checked the time and cursed. He needed to get up and get going to check on Fenris.

The pair of emerald eyes that haunted his dream and drove him to come followed him in his mind as he rinsed off his hands in the bathroom basin.

**XXXXX**

When Anders entered Fenris’s room, the elf raised an eyebrow at him accusingly.

“Are you ever on time?”

“I, uh, fell asleep,” Anders replied lamely. He tried to will the light blush on his face away. Staring at the object of his wet dreams before him was intoxicating. The memory of the way Fenris was capable of making him feel itched at his mind like a sickness. Anders gave an awkward cough and moved to the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Those emerald orbs met his and Anders felt the breath catch in his throat as Fenris replied, “No different than before. I napped as well so my strength has returned.”

_Those eyes are hypnotizing._

For a moment Anders wondered if perhaps Fenris had begun having _those_ dreams about him as well. _As if he would ever be interested in a_ mage _like you. Why should anyone have interest in you?_

Anders nodded and tried to silence his pessimistic thoughts. “Ah, that’s good to hear. So are you ready to try and move about, then?”

Fenris nodded and Anders watched as the warrior sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed with much less difficulty than this morning. Fenris was definitely improving. Anders held out his arms for support the way he had done this morning, briefly hoping for the opportunity to hold some part of Fenris again. However, the elf managed to stand without his aid and without swaying. Anders remained by his side as Fenris took a few tentative steps forward. It wasn’t until his return walk back to the bed from reaching the other side of the room that he swayed. Instantly Anders was there, reaching out and holding Fenris’s waist steadily in both his hands. Anders knew he should keep space between them, but he couldn’t help but lean forward a bit so that his chest was nearly touching Fenris’s back.

The mage leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Fenris tensed at the words and his breath seemed to catch. To the mage’s surprise, he didn’t reply verbally. Fenris just gave a curt nod and took a step forward to get out of Anders’s grasp. Anders let him go somewhat disappointingly and worried briefly if the moment had been too intimate. _Maybe I made him uncomfortable._ Anders kept his distance after that and watched as Fenris reached the bed. Anders thought that Fenris would get back into bed, but to his surprise the elf simply turned around and started walking back toward him. By his third lap around the room, Fenris was breathing rather heavily and his brow had broken out in perspiration.

“You’re doing remarkably well.”

His praise sounded weak to his ears compared to just how incredibly _impressed_ he was with Fenris, but the warrior seemed to respond well to the compliment. A faint blush touched the tips of his ears and he refused to look at Anders.

On the fifth lap, Fenris stumbled. Anders was there but Fenris was deadweight and the two of them collapsed to the floor. Anders was on one knee and held Fenris around the waist and chest. Because of their angle, Fenris was slightly above him and the warrior’s arms were limp at his sides. He was still conscious though, and his voice was exhausted as he said, “’M fine. Want to keep going.”

“Take a break first,” Anders soothed as he helped maneuver the elf’s body into a kneeling position.

Fenris’s breathing was irregular and he had slumped forward so that his forehead rested against Anders’s shoulder. They were both kneeling on the marble floor with their knees practically touching. For Fenris, someone who needed a constant bubble at almost all times, the closeness showed Anders just how exhausted the elf was. But what was more, Fenris _trusted_ Anders, and he demonstrated it by letting his forehead rest on the mage’s shoulder. Anders could feel the elf’s breath hitting him through his medical coat and Anders prayed to any higher being that would listen to him that he would _not_ get an erection in this moment. Anders kept his arms around Fenris as he waited for the warrior to even out his breathing.

“What you did was really impressive, Fenris. Take a moment to relax – you’ve certainly earned it.” He cursed the strain in his voice and hoped that Fenris wouldn’t notice it. Anders figured Fenris’s pride was probably wounded at collapsing, so he added, “Anyone else would have fallen after the third lap. I mean it when I say you’re special. And it has nothing to do with the markings.”

Fenris raised his head at that and there was an extreme emotion of _something_ that Anders couldn’t put his finger on. It wasn’t anger or indignation, but Fenris’s eyes were alight with _something_. Anders found he couldn’t look away.

“Your personal strength is remarkable, Fenris.”

He knew he was babbling praise at this point, but he meant every word. Fenris truly was unlike anyone Anders had ever met. His strength was unmatched. Anders briefly recalled the time when they had entered the Fade to rescue Feynriel and Hawke had gone on for _weeks_ after about how impossible it had been to fight Fenris.

The way he said the warrior’s name caused something to shift in the elf’s expression. Fenris’s breathing had evened out and his lips were pursed, but his eyes danced with emotion as he blinked at Anders.

“Flatterer.”

The unexpectedly blunt reply caught Anders off-guard and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. They were close enough that their breaths tickled each other’s faces and he saw the way the corners of Fenris’s lips turned up in an almost-smile.

“Yes, well, I give praise where I think it is due.”

“I wish to stand so that I may try again.”

“Oh no you don’t. You might actually kill yourself and as your doctor, I think that that is enough for today. Your body needs rest even if your mind is as stubborn as a druffalo.”

Fenris glared at him but Anders simply laughed in response. He helped the elf up, keeping an appropriate amount of space between them, and helped him get back into bed. As Anders prepared to check on Fenris’s wounds and make sure his injuries hadn’t been irritated by the workout, Fenris shifted the slightest bit in his bed out of awkwardness.

“You know, for a doctor of medicine, you are very forgetful about the needs of your patients.”

Anders quirked an eyebrow at him in confusion and Fenris refused to meet his gaze.

“That healing ointment.”

Realization flashed across the doctor’s face as he openly grinned. “You’re right! But since you have so generously reminded me, you _should_ have it applied immediately. Maker only knows the kind of infections you’ll get if you don’t have it applied to your skin continuously.”

“…You were not wrong when you said Orana has coarse hands.”

Anders felt a lump form in his throat as he took in the way the warrior was suddenly studying the lamps in the room very closely. _Does this mean…?_

“Would you like me to do it?” Anders gave himself a pat on the back for how well he was able to keep his voice steady and free of hope. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he thanked the Maker that Justice was no longer inside of him to taunt him for his childish reaction.

“…It appears I have no other option.”

Fenris glanced over at him and just as quickly looked away. Anders took in the blush on his face and wondered if maybe Fenris _wanted_ him to do it.

“Alright. Let me check your wounds first.”

Fenris nodded his consent and Anders made sure to take the time to thoroughly check Fenris’s wounds. Every blood cell in his body may have been alight with excitement, but he wasn’t about to shirk his doctor’s duties. After a few moments, Anders spoke.

“Everything looks good. Your body is healing nicely. Now, let’s see that back, shall we?”

Fenris hesitated and _still_ he was not looking at Anders. The mage longed to gently cup the warrior’s chin and lift his eyes so that they may share a glance. Anders wanted Fenris to know it was okay.

“If you want me to stop at any moment, I will. If you get uncomfortable at any moment, tell me. I will not touch you without your complete trust, Fenris.”

Anders realized he was probably saying the warrior’s name far too much, but he wanted Fenris to know that he knew who he was talking to. Anders wanted, no, he _needed_ Fenris’s consent to allow him to do this. Otherwise he would let Orana and her rough hands do it.

“Your concern is…not unappreciated.” Fenris looked as if he wanted to say more and Anders waited, but the warrior just gave a curt nod and shifted his body on the bed so that there was room to sit behind him.

Anders washed his hands in the basin beside the bed. Slightly awkwardly, Anders moved onto the bed behind Fenris. The elf had crossed his legs and was sitting with his posture somewhat hunched. Anders kept his thighs wide apart so that his legs didn’t touch Fenris. For a moment he thought of how their situation must look rather intimate, and a part of him prayed that Orana wouldn’t just walk in on them.

Anders took a vial of cream from one of the pockets of his medical coat and held it out for Fenris to see.

“It’s a specialty from _Orlais_ of all places. Apparently those pompous pricks managed to get _something_ right.”

Fenris snorted in response and Anders quietly steadied himself.

“I need to see your back.”

It really shouldn’t have been this awkward. Any other doctor would have been able to maintain a level of professionalism and keep unwanted thoughts _out_ of their mind when asking a patient to disrobe. Anders knew that Fenris had on a pair of black leggings – that made his ass look _sinful_ – so the warrior wouldn’t be totally nude. Fenris seemed to steal himself a breath of his own before he reached down and in one motion, tore the shirt off of his body and held it in his lap.

Anders stared.

He had seen the warrior’s body when he had first been brought in for treatment – he had seen the scars and lyrium markings and knew the exact placement of the wounds. Yet being this close to Fenris with the warrior awake and waiting for him to heal was breathtaking.

Anders closed his eyes and counted to ten before uncapping the lid of the bottle.

“This is going to feel cold at first but it heats up to soothe. It’s not magic but more so a chemical reaction.”

He knew he wanted his words to encourage Fenris to relax, but he himself was on edge. This was far more intimate of a moment than it should have been.

Anders dipped his fingers into the cream and gently pressed them to the tip of a gash. Fenris winced slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away. Anders focused on the wound as he dragged his fingers down and around the wound, tenderly rubbing the cream into it. Fenris’s body hadn’t relaxed – in fact it seemed to have gotten tenser since he started rubbing the cream in. Anders tried to think of something to say, but he knew that his words would only come out awkward and strained. Fenris didn’t like bullshit conversation anyway. So Anders didn’t say anything as he finished up with the first wound. It was only a few centimeters deep but ran about five inches in width under the warrior’s shoulder blade. It had begun to puss and fester, and it was a good thing that Fenris had said something about needing the cream. Otherwise, the wound would have gotten much worse.

Anders dabbed on a little bit more cream before wiping his hand off on a cloth. He dipped his fingers back into the cream and began applying it to the next wound – a gash near the top of the warrior’s other shoulder that ran down the length of his shoulder blade. Anders was tempted to lean over and kiss the wound in a display of tender affection, but he fought the silly urge and instead started applying the actually effective cream.

Once Anders had finished with the second wound, he leaned back and examined Fenris’s back. He had another gash near the bottom of his back, but Anders wasn’t sure he could properly rub in the cream at the angle they were at. Fenris seemed to sense his hesitation and he turned his head so that his hair brushed over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“This bottom wound…the angle is awkward.”

Fenris seemed to weigh his options for a moment before moving away from Anders. Anders stood up from the bed to allow Fenris to adjust himself. The mage watched in surprise as Fenris laid down on the bed with his back exposed to the mage. Anders gulped and sat beside the elf. He didn’t dare straddle him like he so desperately wanted. Instead, Anders sat next to the warrior and dipped his fingers back into the cream. This angle was much better and Fenris gave the smallest of sighs at the contact as Anders rubbed in the cream.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, it…tingles. Like you said it would. When it gets hot.”

Was Anders imagining it or was the great warrior stumbling slightly over his words? Fenris had lain down with the left side of his face against the pillow so that the side of his face facing Anders was hidden by his white locks.

Anders hiked an eyebrow but Fenris didn’t see it.

“Good. If it gets too uncomfortable, let me know.”

Anders was able to make out Fenris biting his lip through the hair covering the majority of his features. The look was so incredibly sexy that Anders nearly lost track of the task at hand. Covering the wounds in the cream took way too short of a time for his liking and Anders frowned. Fenris’s lithe body felt wonderful under his hands. The warrior’s muscular back was setting a low hum of arousal in him and Anders selfishly wanted to keep touching him.

“I have finished applying the cream. How do you feel?”

“Warm but it is not uncomfortable.”

Anders bit his lip as his eyes raked over the warrior’s body. He didn’t want to leave Fenris.  

“Are you sore at all?”

Fenris hiked an eyebrow and he shifted slightly so that he had a clearer look at Anders. “I’m a warrior. Soreness is something I’ve become accustomed to.”

Anders let out a short laugh at that but a new tightness had formed in his chest. “What I meant was would you like me to give you a massage?”

There was a long silence as Fenris simply stared at him.

“Healing hands,” Anders replied to his judgmental look. The mage even added a sassy wiggle of his fingers in the air in front of Fenris’s face.

Fenris scoffed, “Massages are the work of a slave.”

“Or a doctor who wants to help his patients feel better,” Anders argued with a smile. He was tempted to lie down beside the warrior so that their faces would be closer together. “It’s completely up to you.”

“You have been…overly considerate with my wishes since my coming here.”

“I just want you to be comfortable. It must be hard being stuck in a place like this when you want to be out there, amidst the fighting. You shouldn’t have to endure shitty treatment here as well as physical pain.”

“What do you want?”

“Me?”

Fenris _hmm_ -ed and Anders didn’t know what to say. _I want you. I want to ask you everything and get to know you. To_ really _know you. I want to give myself to you and care for you and see you succeed in your mission._

_I want you to want me._

“I want you to feel better.”

He figured it was a cop-out answer, but it was the truth. Anders _did_ want Fenris to get well quickly and to return to the heat of battle where the elf could do the most good. Anders knew that his massages _were_ incredibly helpful to soothing aches and pains from the grateful replies of former patients. He remembered a time when even Hawke had bragged about his ‘healing hands’ to anyone who would listen for weeks on end. The memory reminded Anders of his current position with Fenris and he looked down, breaking eye contact with the elf.

_As if he would ever want someone like you. Not even Hawke wanted you in the end._

Fenris was silent for a long time. Just as Anders was about to say something to fill the silence, Fenris shifted his body onto his side so that he could openly regard Anders. The warrior winced at the discomfort the position gave him, but he made no move to lie back down. His gaze met Anders’s and the mage was forced to maintain eye contact rather than drink in the sight of the warrior’s exposed chest. His very, _very_ , attractive chest. Complete with perky nipples, toned abs, and lyrium markings that dipped well below the waistband of his pants. The way Fenris’s hair fell over his face made a lump form in the mage’s throat.

The warrior truly was beautiful.

“It is difficult for me to imagine a massage as anything other than a slave’s job.”

Fenris was looking at him curiously, as if he truly could not understand _why_ anyone would want to be submissive. But it wasn’t _about_ being submissive – at least not to Anders. It was about wanting and needing to make the warrior feel _good_. Anders decided to tell him as much.

“I want you to feel good. And if a massage can help, then I want to try. I wish to do this – of my own free will. I _want_ to make you feel good.” He could feel the blush spanning down his neck and under the collar of his shirt. But he prided the way he maintained eye contact with Fenris during it.

The elf blinked and looked down, hair covering his eyes once more.

“Why?”

_Because I was wrong about you and I want to learn more about you. I want to try again._

Anders bit the inside of his lip and he looked down at the floor. Realizing Fenris needed to know how honest he was, Anders willed himself to look back up.

“Because you’ve spent so much of your time worrying about everyone else – Harding, Cullen, the slaves, your new troops – that you often forget to take care of yourself.”

It was true. Had Fenris been watching his own back on the battlefield then he would have seen the rogues sneaking up on him.

“You want to massage me,” Fenris clarified flatly.

“If you will let me.”

Fenris swallowed and replied after a moment, “I still do not understand how you cannot see this as demeaning. But as you wish.” He lowered himself back onto his stomach.

Anders couldn’t believe his luck. Schooling his features into something resembling neutrality, Anders wiped off his hands on the cloth. He adjusted himself on the bed so that he would have a better reach of Fenris’s body. Anders contemplated where he should begin – the wounds on the warrior’s back were in prime ‘starting massage positions’ on his back. Anders settled on working on Fenris’s lower back first. Avoiding the wounded area, Anders gently rested his hands against the elf’s lower back and began digging his thumbs into the skin. Fenris gasped softly. Anders paused, waiting for Fenris to tell him to stop, but when the elf said nothing, Anders continued. He massaged his thumbs up the warrior’s spine, taking care to work out any knots in his back. Massaging Fenris sent jolts of electricity through Anders, as if he had been shocked by lightning magic. He had to bite his lip to keep from moaning at the slight way Fenris arched up into his touch.

_He feels divine._

Anders splayed his fingers across Fenris’s back and kept his palms flat against the skin. He slid his hands softly down the warrior’s back, avoiding the creamy areas. He made sure his touch was tender, even as he clenched his hands into fists and used his knuckles to loosen up any knots.

When Anders hit a spot just below the elf’s right shoulder blade, the warrior let out a soft moan.

The sound startled both of them and went straight to Anders’s cock. Anders sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth.

Anders thought about teasing the elf but he was afraid if he did, then Fenris would never let him touch him again. So instead Anders kept silent and continued his ministrations.

Fenris had gone oddly quiet – more so than he had been – as if he was embarrassed at himself. Anders silently tried to tell him it was okay, and that it was just the body’s natural reaction to feeling good, by continuing the massage. Once Anders had worked up and down Fenris’s back twice, he changed the position of his hands so that they were once again splayed out over the warrior’s back. Anders lightly dragged his fingers up and down the warrior’s back. He longed to kiss each and every inch of Fenris’s beautiful skin.

“Your markings aren’t hurting, are they?”

His awareness seemed to surprise the warrior and Fenris gave a shrug under his hands. “They…tingle. They can feel the lure of your magic pulsing in your veins, but they do not seem to be awaiting activation. The feeling is…strange.”

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice came out a whisper, as if he spoke too loudly, it would break the moment they were having.

“No.” The warrior’s voice came out equally as soft and Anders’s heart thudded against his chest.

Anders went back to rubbing small circles across Fenris’s back with his thumbs.

“This is not degrading for you?”

“Not at all,” Anders assured. “I’ve given plenty of patients massages to help them feel better. Although, none of them were quite as –” Anders cut himself off harshly and focused on a particularly stubborn knot in the elf’s upper back.

“As…?”

_Alluring, beautiful, captivating, dreamy, elegant, fiery, giving, handsome…_

“Well they’re…they’re not you.”

Anders winced at the lameness of his sentence. It sounded truly awful, especially to his own ears. He had dug himself a hole and now he wasn’t sure how he was going to dig himself out. Anders prayed that Fenris wouldn’t pry.

Of course the Maker couldn’t just let him have this one.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad,” Anders replied quickly – _too_ quickly – as he stumbled for an adequate response. “I meant that…well…I don’t have the kind of relationship – history, I meant _history_ with my other patients like I do with you.”

Fenris turned his face to look back at him and Anders saw the damn eyebrow that had risen up to his bangs.

“History?”

The elf was taunting him. There was even a small, teasing smirk on the warrior’s lips. Anders gave a sigh as he dug his fingers a bit harsher into Fenris’s skin out of exasperation.

“You know what I mean! My other patients, that’s all they are – they’re patients. Most of them aren’t very prominent, even the ones who come here who are part of the Magisterium. You’re not _just_ a patient. You’re the Lieutenant-Commander of the Inquisition’s forces! You’re the savior of _thousands_ across Thedas whereas I’m the _wanted killer_ of hundreds in Kirkwall. You’re _different_ from my other patients.”

“Because of my position.”

“Because I care about you.”

_Shit._

Fenris turned over and Anders didn’t even have the sense to remove his hands. Instead his hands followed Fenris’s waist as the warrior turned on his back to look up at Anders. Anders’s hand drifted across Fenris’s stomach to hold his side under his touch, and the feeling caused a slight intake of breath from Fenris. Neither of them really noticed it. Anders’s blush had gone back down his neck and reached his ears. Fenris was looking somewhere off to the side of Anders, not quite making the eye contact that the mage so desperately wanted from him.

“Why?”

“You’ve changed since Kirkwall. We both have. I want to know how and why.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

_Because I’ve lost everyone else. I thought I lost you too, but you came back into my life. Not under terms I would have liked, but you’re here. And I’m here. And we’re both broken but trying to do right by the world and by each other. And maybe…maybe you can learn to understand me. And maybe I can try again to get to understand you. Maybe we can have a second chance at this. At all of this._

“Because…”

_Because I can never leave this clinic or I will be killed. Because I’m as much of a prisoner here as I was in the Circle. Because you know true freedom and I wish, I wish with all my being, that I could join you out there on the battlefield like old times. I wish that I could help you serve justice. I wish that I could see you fight and watch the way you command your men with every ounce of leadership Hawke knew you were capable of._

_I wish we could put Kirkwall behind us and focus on a common goal._

Anders couldn’t voice the words he longed to say. He just stared into Fenris’s eyes and hoped that his eyes could tell Fenris everything.

Fenris opened his mouth but a loud explosion cut him off. Instantly Anders was off the bed and grabbing his staff just as Orana burst into the room.

“Pardon the interruption but it seems that one of our inexperienced doctors accidentally mixed the wrong potions. Doctor, you need to help him clean up his mess and restore order.”

Anders glanced at Fenris and was slightly disappointed at the way the warrior had immediately thrown his shirt back on his body and sat up, ready to fight. Giving a sigh, Anders turned to Fenris.

“Fenris, I –”

“Go.”

Anders gave him his best apologetic look before hurriedly leaving the room to take care of the novice’s mistake.

He didn’t see the way Fenris let out a long, shaky breath at his departure.


	12. What's Gotten Hold of Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo remember when I said that updates would be more regular in the last chapter? HA! HA HA HA Ha ha ha ha...ha...ha...ha...........ha......  
> I'm the worst, I know. But now that the school year is winding down and summer is approaching, I have more time. The outline of the next two chapters are already done I just need to tweak them and then they will be posted. As always, thank you for your patience and for reading/enjoying this fic. Please leave kind reviews and kudos! They encourage me to write/post faster and make me happy all around.

Fenris’s heart was still pounding in his chest an hour after Anders had left. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the mage would have said had they not been interrupted. What bothered Fenris the most was that he did not know _what_ he wanted the mage to say. Being a doctor, of course Anders knew where and how to touch someone to perfectly elicit a pleasurable response, but it still surprised him just how _right_ the mage’s hands had felt caressing and rubbing his skin. And the amount of care Anders had applied to his body had definitely struck something within him. He could not ever remember someone taking so much time to continuously check for his consent and happiness. And at the end of the massage when Anders had started to confess something Fenris suspected of being deeply meaningful…

Fenris took a shaky breath.

When he closed his eyes, a pair of amber orbs floated behind his eyelids. Those hands – _Maker_ , those _hands_! He could still faintly smell the aftershave Anders wore and it set a low thrum of arousal within him.

_He’s a_ mage _. You would let someone like_ him _touch you so gently?_

But Anders was nothing like Danarius. For one thing, Anders genuinely cared about him and his well-being and had proven that over and over again in the past few days. Anders had only used his magic for healing.

_It would be so easy for him to hurt you. To torture you. To make you feel true horror._

Fenris frowned but couldn’t seem to let the negative thoughts of warning dissuade him from running his hand sluggishly up his chest. He wondered what it would feel like to have Anders lick a stripe down his chest to his naval.

_Look at you, touching yourself from the memory of a_ mage _. It’s just a physical infatuation. You’re starved of sex – that’s all this is. You’re so desperate for a quick rut that you’ll settle for a mage to claim._

But Fenris had a nagging suspicion that this wasn’t like his encounters with Hawke or Isabela – Anders was different. Fenris didn’t just want sexual release from the mage. He wanted more.

He wanted more.

The realization made his hand pause on its sensual journey. It concerned him to realize how badly he wanted that which he could never truly have. He and Anders were of two separate worlds now. Fenris had a mission he had to complete – one that could _not_ be jeopardized by distracting mages. And even if Fenris were to pursue something with the mage after the slaves had been freed, it could never end in happiness. Anders could never leave Tevinter or he would be killed. And because of his past, Fenris surely could not stay here – he was a wanderer, not someone to truly settle down. Right?

Fenris gave a heavy sigh full of frustration as his hand fell down at his side. He could never hope of developing anything serious with Anders. If they fell in bed together then that would be that. Fenris was good at one night stands – he knew one night stands. He could fuck Anders, get all of this pent-up emotion out of his system, and then return to the battlefield sated and ready to continue his mission.

Anders would not become a distraction from his mission.

**XXXXX**

“WHATEVER IS DISTRACTING YOU NEEDS TO STOP. IT IS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU RETURNED VERY LATE TO CONTINUE YOUR WORK – I WILL NOT HAVE YOU LOSING SIGHT OF WHAT IS TRULY IMPORTANT!”

Anders sighed as he looked down at the book in his lap. After fixing up the mess that the young doctor had made mixing ingredients that most certainly should _not_ have been mixed, Anders had finally made his way back to the research labs to continue his work with Justice. However, it was very late by the time he returned to his feline companion and Anders was honestly exhausted. He could still feel Fenris’s skin under his hands, the way Fenris arched up into his touch, and how damn _good_ it had felt to have the warrior nearly naked for him.

Maker preserve him, he wanted _more_.

Spending time with Justice had done wonders for killing his arousal but every time he started to space out thinking about the nearly sinful encounter, all Anders wanted to do was run back to the room and finish what he had somewhat started.

But arousal put aside, Anders was honestly a little scared. He had nearly confessed his growing feelings for the warrior and that wouldn’t have been smart. Fenris depended on him for care and healing and Anders couldn’t risk the professional relationship he had to maintain with the warrior over some childish thoughts. But something within his soul longed for the elf. Anders wanted to connect with him both physically and emotionally – he _wanted_ to start _something_ with Fenris.

“I am sorry, Justice. You know that finding a cure for tranquility means more to me than anything.”

Justice _hmmph_ -ed but didn’t dispute Anders’s statement. Instead, the fluffy cat simply swished his tail in annoyance and squinted his eyes at the mage.

“WHO IS THIS PATIENT THAT HAUNTS YOUR EVERY THOUGHT?”

“Who said it’s just one patient?” But Anders’s feeble attempt to throw Justice off the scent was futile. Anders blamed the fact that the two had shared a body for years for just how perceptive Justice was when it came to matters of the mage’s heart. The cat’s eyes turned to slits as he peered at Anders in suspicion.  

“DO NOT TRY THAT. TELL ME WHO IT IS.”

Anders rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked anywhere in the lab but at the cat before him.

“Someone of great importance.”

“YOU ARE BEING VAGUE AND IT IS DISCONCERTING.”

“Alright, fine! Do you remember Fenris from Kirkwall?”

Justice tilted his head as he thought back. “THE ELF WHO SANG OF LYRIUM?”

“Yes. Well…he’s here…as my patient. He was injured in a battle and he was brought here to rest and recover before he gets sent back out to the frontlines again. He’s been leading the slave rebellions in Tevinter with the support of the Inquisition.”

“A WORTHY OBJECTIVE. SLAVERY IS UNJUST.” Justice was quiet for a few seconds before he looked back at Anders with a question in his eyes. “IS YOUR IDENTITY COMPROMISED?”

“I think I have a greater threat of being exposed by a member of the Magisterium than I do by anyone in connection with Fenris,” Anders replied, thinking back on Dorian Pavus. “Exposure is still a great concern of mine, and probably always will be, but there is nothing I can do about it for now.”

“WE MUST DOUBLE OUR EFFORTS TO COMPLETE THIS CURE QUICKLY,” Justice announced, kneading his paws against the book he was stationed upon. “IF YOU FACE THE POSSIBILITY OF EXPOSURE THEN WE MUST FINISH THIS BEFORE THEY TRY TO KILL OR BLACKMAIL YOU.”

“Thanks for the boost of optimism, Justice,” Anders replied sarcastically.

The cat blinked and reflected on his words for a second before replying, “I DID NOT MEAN TO INSULT. OBVIOUSLY YOU WILL NOT FACE HARM WITH ME HERE. THOUGH I AM TRAPPED IN THIS FURRY, TINY BODY, I WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL YOU.”

Anders couldn’t help but reach out and scratch the cat behind his ears. “Nor will I let any pain befall you, old friend.”

**XXXXXX**

_My Dear Spymaster,_

_Know that I have accomplished the arduous task of moving about my room and expect to return to the frontlines shortly. I am glad to hear that you, the Inquisitor, and Commander Cullen are all faring well. I find myself missing you and your company. Things here are…rough and…confusing. I have been avoiding the question you initially posed me because I did not know how to answer. I once thought I knew everything about him but now I see that that is not the case and that he has changed much since then. He is…_

_He is puzzling._

_I am sorry that this is probably not the answer that you originally sought. I would offer more but hopefully I will be back on the frontlines soon and I will not have to elaborate. I am not sure whether or not I want to truly find out a more detailed answer to your question. He has become somewhat of a…distraction. But soon I will return to the battlefield and any puzzling thoughts will be put behind me. I wish my body would heal faster._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Lieutenant-Commander Fenris_


	13. The Maker's Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you the next update would come quickly ;)

Two days.

Two days went by and Fenris and Anders saw none of one another. The morning after the ‘Massage Incident’, a group of four injured slaves and three human mages had been rushed to the clinic, all afflicted with serious burns from the Qunari powder. Anders and his top doctors had been hard at work for over 24 hours trying to heal the worst of the wounds and keep the patients alive. Yet despite their efforts, two of the slaves and one of the humans died before the first night fell. Anders watched as their lifeless bodies were carried from the room. He knew that they would receive a proper burial depending on the customs of their race and religion, but it was torturous to watch them leave the clinic. He took their losses as a personal failure. Saying a quick prayer to the Maker, Anders himself had no time to mourn their losses – he had to diligently keep working to save his remaining patients.

His concentration had zeroed in on the patient he was currently pouring healing magic into – he did not see Krem keeping an eye on things from a bed in the next room over. He did not see the way Krem continuously asked passing nurses or doctors if there was anything he could do to help. Anders did not see the growing frustration in Krem’s face at being stuck watching but not being able to help.

When one of Anders’s top doctors, a dwarf named Letya, instructed him to finally take a break, the mage slumped against the nearest wall, completely exhausted. He vowed he would not leave until every patient that had been brought in was stable. But his hovering proved to get in the way of nurses rushing back and forth, so he moved back to stand against the glass wall through which Krem was observing the events. Anders looked behind him and finally caught the soldier’s eye. Krem signaled him over and Anders shirked his gown and gloves to go and greet the warrior dismally.

“It’s the powder, isn’t it? Burns your skin clean off and then seeps into your bloodstream to poison you. Nasty shit.”

Anders couldn’t help but agree as he slumped in a chair beside Krem’s bed, keeping his watch on the doctors in the burn ward.

“You’re lucky that you were brought in here from weapon wounds and not from that.”

Krem nodded in agreement. “I was lucky, all things considered. How are you holding up?” Anders gave him a weary look and Krem couldn’t help but chuckle dryly. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. What you do is impressive, you know. Anyone who can keep a steady supply of healing magic for that long either has a deal with some demon or was blessed by the Maker himself.”

Anders peered over at the soldier and inquired, “You’re religious?”

Krem shrugged. “I saw the sky get ripped apart and watched the Inquisitor walk out of the Fade. The way I see it, some higher shit has got to be keeping some kind of creepy, watchful eye over us or we’d be a lot more fucked by now.”

Anders let out a dry laugh at that. He had to admit, Krem had a point. Hawke had certainly done a lot of shit back in Kirkwall that defied any notion of natural order.

“I just would have thought that given your past, your faith would be a bit…shakier.”

Krem shrugged again. “Every time things have really gone to shit, someone or something was there to pick me back up. Couldn’t have been all coincidence that Bull was there to round me up into his hearty gang of misfits when he did. If nothing else, it’s a comforting thought.”

Anders leaned back in his chair as his gaze returned to the doctors working on his patients. “Is your Bull religious?”

Krem sucked in a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tricky subject. He’s Tal-Vashoth now since he refused to complete a mission that would have killed me and the other Chargers. But he still values many of the ideas and rules of the Qun. It’s…complicated. The Qunari believe that since he disobeyed orders, he has turned his back on the Qun. He will never be accepted again into Par Vollen as a true Qunari. I think it troubles him but he does not regret his decision.”

Anders was quiet as he reflected on Krem’s words. To have had your faith shaken like that – to be rejected by the religious of your homeland and cast away for acting on something you believed was right…Anders could understand that in a sense. Though Bull had saved lives whereas Anders had taken them.

_Just another thing that divides you from those around you._

Krem watched as Anders seemed to retreat in on himself and he didn’t like the way the mage’s gaze darkened.

“Hey Doc?”

Anders blinked and looked back at him.

“You can’t save everyone. You can try your damn hardest to prevent it, but death will always come for some. You can count your losses but don’t dwell on them. Otherwise you’ll get so distracted that you lose sight of what’s left that still needs saving.”

“Is that more Iron Bull logic or are you speaking from personal experience?”

“A bit of both, I suppose,” Krem replied with an easy smile.

Anders couldn’t help but return the smile, though he knew it would be difficult to follow Krem’s advice. He took too much responsibility for those lost.

**XXXXXXX**

Harding’s reply to the two letters Fenris sent her came two days after the Massage Incident. Orana had informed him that the morning after the mage’s last visit with Fenris, a wave of injured from the frontlines had been brought in for Anders and his staff to treat. The doctor had been busy for the past two days in the burn ward healing patients in desperate need of it. Fenris, however, couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the mage was avoiding him. Maybe Anders thought he had overstepped his boundaries and was afraid of what Fenris would say. Or maybe he had come to his senses and realized that there was no possible way he and the elf could ever have any kind of relationship that went past platonic. Either way, Fenris did not like not hearing from the mage himself. It put him on edge and made him feel restless. To occupy himself, Fenris busied himself with reading Harding’s letter to him.

_Dear Lieutenant-Commander Worrier,_

_First of all, I am no doctor but I am sure that you are in no shape to go back to the frontlines. Knowing your luck, you will just get yourself injured all over again, and this time perhaps permanently. So don’t even try to rush your recovery. Second, if I have to come down there and restrain you myself to stop you from trying to escape, I will. And I’ll bring Lady Montilyet with me. She will kill you with kindness, mark my words!_

_As for your more personal inquiries, think of it this way. I am a dwarf and cannot practice magic myself. Yet that does not mean that I am not a vital member of the Inquisition and its purpose. Neither Cullen nor Josie know magic, yet they are necessary to this cause. You do not need magic to make you important and significant and powerful, Fenris. In fact, I think you are more powerful without it. You have already accomplished so much, and will accomplish way more before this is all over._

_Does this have to do with Solas?_

_“Puzzling” is good. It is a start. I thank you for enlightening me and I look forward to hearing more about your doctor. Have you considered that perhaps he is just as puzzled about you as you are about him? I do not think him being a “distraction” is necessarily a bad thing. You deserve happiness and love, Fenris. I know that you’re going to roll your eyes at that and scoff and brush it all off, but it is true._

_You deserve to feel cherished. And if that means it comes from someone from your past then why deny what you feel? You worry far too much. Just…take it slow and see what happens._

_You deserve happiness, Fenris._

_Sincerely,_

_Lace Harding_

It took over an hour for Fenris to decipher the letter. Fenris frowned at Harding’s talk about love. He didn’t feel anything _that_ strongly for the mage – the idea of ever falling in love with _Anders_ of all people was ludicrous! Besides, it had been years since Kirkwall – surely Anders had taken at least one lover since then…right? Why should Fenris fool himself into thinking the act of sex would be monogamous? But deep down, the thought of sharing Anders with another did not appeal to Fenris – he felt himself growing slightly ill at the mere thought of it. He needed to get out of this bedroom and feel the warm air on his skin and in his lungs. He needed to clear his head and put some space between himself and the mage. Harding be damned, he needed to train!

He reread Lace’s letter and pondered the one question regarding the elven god.

_“Does this have anything to do with Solas?”_

Fenris knew Harding was probably afraid, deep down in her gut, that Fenris might switch sides to promote the rise of elves to power in Thedas. That would certainly take care of the issue of elven slaves in Tevinter. But Fenris’s ideas were ideologically different than Solas’s. Whereas the god wanted to commit genocide and wipe out all other races but elves, Fenris wanted to wipe out slavers and those who abused his power. Fenris had long-since learned that abusers come in many forms – dwarf, Qunari, human, elf – and that it was wrong of him to take out his hatred for Danarius on all humans. After all, Hawke, Anders, and many of his friends from both Kirkwall and the Inquisition were of various races other than elf. Fen’Harel’s plan just had too many flaws in it for Fenris to truly support it or seek out the god to follow. Instead, the warrior figured he could do more good for the slaves of Thedas by joining forces with the Inquisition and sticking with it.

_My Dear Harding,_

_Fear not, I am your loyal warrior. My inquiry about my own self-worth stemmed more from personal reflection than anything connecting to that deranged loon. I remain at your side and the side of the Inquisitor for as long as you will have me._

Fenris paused in his letter and wasn’t sure how to continue. He called out to Orana and when she poked her head in the door, he inquired about how long until the training room would be ready.

“It is ready for you now, Lieutenant-Commander. Although I must insist that I go with you just in case anything happens.”

Fenris’s pride didn’t want to let him concede but he knew it was the smartest decision to let her accompany him. Plus it would put him a bit more at ease to know that just in case things did go terribly south and they were attacked or whatever, she would be there with him. He turned back to the letter he was writing.

_I have sinned much in my lifetime. While the murders I have committed were necessary, they do not grant me much peace of mind. It is difficult for me to think of myself as someone who deserves happiness in the sense you regard it. But perhaps you are right in some respects…perhaps I do need to “take it slowly and see” as it were._

_Perhaps I could convince the kind doctor to let me borrow one of those magic crystals so that we could converse properly._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Lieutenant-Commander Fenris_


	14. Always Looking On The Bright Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris trains and Dorian returns with some Thedas-shattering news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this fic so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it is kind of a short one, and please leave kudos and kind reviews! They encourage me to write more :)

When Orana opened the door of his bedroom to lead him down the long hallway toward the training room, Fenris expected something to happen. Either an ambush or an attack or for the hallway to open out into a bottomless pit – something! So when Fenris stepped into the completely normal hallway, painted a neat white and black with lanterns hanging from the ceiling, Fenris was surprised. His first steps outside of the room he had been trapped in for over a week now were anticlimactic. He tried not to look disappointed. It did feel right holding his two-handed sword again. Lifting it had not strained him, but it had felt odd to feel the steel under his fingers again. Fenris felt as though he were acquainting himself with a long-lost friend once more.

“I had everyone cleared out from these halls and the training room, so you will have it all to yourself,” Orana explained as she led the way. “I sent a message to Doctor Crowfeather informing him that you were going to practice your sparring but I received no word back. From what I hear from some of the nurses, three of the patients who came in a few days ago passed away before they could be stabilized. I’m sure the doctor is working hard to keep the others alive.”

“Was it the Qunari powder?”

“I believe so. They have made it more dangerous and lethal than it was in the days of old,” she was referring to the incident with the Arishok during Kirkwall, “and now it is the number one killer of soldiers on both sides. Sometimes the Qunari make timed bombs out of it but they go off early – many Qunari lives have been lost to it. It’s dreadful.”

_It’s war,_ Fenris thought realistically, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

She brought him to a small gym that looked a bit bigger than the foyer of his mansion in Hightown. There were punching bags, weights, and training dummies that were either attached to the floor or that hung from the ceiling. True to her word, Orana had cleared out the hall so that Fenris would be able to work alone.

His eyes scanned over the equipment once more before he decided that he would try some simple sparring maneuvers with the training dummy connected to the floor. Readying his stance and blade, Fenris glared at the dummy and imagined it to be one of the slavers he would meet out on the field. Realistically, Fenris supposed he felt a bit foolish considering he was about to beat up a lifeless doll with no facial features or anything, but his body needed this. _He_ needed this.

He raised his sword and swung violently.

When his body didn’t spasm in pain or cause him to collapse out of exhaustion, Fenris readied his stance and swung again. The dummy had been layered with thick padding so that it didn’t immediately break in half with one of the warrior’s swings. It took seven more slices before the head of the dummy lolled off of its body. By fifteen swings, Fenris was panting heavily. His body was not used to the motions of fighting. His upper-body muscles were cramped from so much time without movement and it became harder for him to hold up his heavy blade after repetitious swinging.

“Lieutenant-Commander, perhaps you should take a break.”

Fenris blinked out of a haze. He had forgotten Orana was there. He wanted to keep going, to push himself and see what his limits were, but he also didn’t want to bring forth his lyrium abilities. Taking a steady breath, Fenris turned away from the dummy to sit on a bench with Orana. Wordlessly she handed him a glass of water and grinned proudly at him. He rolled his eyes at her in response and she chuckled at his stubbornness. They sat there for a few moments, enjoying the content silence of one another’s company. Soon, the warrior’s body itched to return to that feeling of intense adrenaline and Fenris resumed his assault on a second training dummy. His movements were not the smoothest and he faltered more than once, but the warrior kept going. He became so focused on the task at hand that it took several moments for him to realize Orana had been calling to him.

“Serrah, your markings.”

Fenris paused in his attack on the dummy to look down at his body. He realized that the lyrium lines had begun to shine without him realizing. Perhaps his control on the lyrium supply in his body was not as steady as he originally thought.

Orana handed him a refill of his water and after waiting for him to finish it, she suggested, “I think we should head back and get you some food. You can come here later, after you have rested.”

Weary of his markings that were still glowing faintly, Fenris nodded his consent and allowed her to lead him back to his room. He resolved himself to ask Anders about the uncontrolled markings when he saw him next.

**XXXXX**

The four remaining patients from the powder attack that had been brought to the clinic a few days prior had _finally_ been stabilized. The doctors had shooed Anders to his office to get some rest. Therefore, he wasn’t expecting to see a familiar magister waiting for him upon his entrance.

“Maker, you look downright _awful_. I spoke with Krem and he told me you’ve had a rough few days. I thought perhaps you could use a drink.”

Anders wearily took in the sight of Dorian holding up a bottle of wine and gave a sigh. “Right now all I want is to sleep for a hundred years.”

Dorian smiled sympathetically and ushered Anders into chair. “Your work never ends, does it?”

Anders slumped into his chair and released his hair from its bind. Running his fingers through the locks, he eyed Dorian suspiciously. “What is it that you want with me now?”

Dorian _tutted_ and placed the bottle of wine on the desk between them. Taking a seat in the chair across from Anders, he leaned back leisurely and leveled his gaze with the other mage’s. “Doctor, you have the uncanny ability to make everyone around you feel like they expect something from you. Can’t I simply pop by to check in on Krem and offer you some good, old-fashioned, Tevinter wine?”

Anders merely cocked an eyebrow and Dorian let out a huff of laughter.

“Alright, alright, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Of course,” Anders quipped sarcastically, but there was no actual malice in his voice. He was far too exhausted to thoroughly engage in the typical banter.

“Because of the Inquisition’s efforts to end slavery in Tevinter, the Archon has declared it, and all of its associates, enemies of the Tevinter Imperium.”

Anders, who had been revealing two glasses from underneath his desk, nearly dropped the expensive glass in shock.

“But the Inquisition and Tevinter were announced allies.”

“Well, there was never quite a _formal_ announcement. Lady Montilyet just made it seem so. Honestly, with the Inquisitor’s attempts to completely devastate Tevinter’s economy by abolishing slavery, can you really blame the Archon? To him, and much of the Magisterium, the Inquisitor has declared war…something that many of my fellow magisters are reluctant to recognize.”

Dorian paused and leaned forward to uncork the bottle. Pouring himself and Anders both a large helping, he quickly raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. Sighing out of pleasure, Dorian leaned back and resumed his story.

“Everyone knew this announcement was coming from both sides. It is also common knowledge that Tevinter has become weak from fighting both the Inquisition’s forces and the Qunari. Even the magisters who are outraged that an _outsider_ would try and change their beloved nation’s source of might and economy are recognizing that the Magisterium cannot continue leading two wars. The current Archon is too set in his ways to change, but if there were to emerge a _new_ Archon who would outlaw slavery…it would solve many of the issues the other nations, including the Inquisition, have with Tevinter. Alliances could be built anew, Tevinter could thrive again, and Fereldan and Orlais would help us settle our…dispute with the Qunari over Seheron. A dispute, which I believe, has gone on for far too long.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Dorian took a long sip from his wine glass until it was nearly empty. Looking up from beneath his lashes at Anders, he kept the glass in front of his lips as he remarked, “Cullen was nearly killed on the frontlines this morning by Tevinter assassins. You have someone in your care that _cannot_ leave this clinic until the current Archon has stepped down.”

“You’re going to assassinate the leader of the Tevinter Imperium?”

“Not me personally, but I am going to be a part of it, yes. But until I have successfully done that and restored some semblance of order to the Magisterium, I need you to keep an eye on our friend and make sure that they do not leave this building until they are safe to do so. I know Harding has her people here – she is going to help me orchestrate my plans – but I need you to keep an eye on things as well.”

“What makes you think a new Archon would be able to change anything? Politics are not that simple.”

Dorian finished his glass and poured another one. “As you may recall, the Hero of Fereldan single-handedly put a bastard on the throne of Fereldan and picked the current King of Orzammar. Your own Champion of Kirkwall now presides over one of the most influential cities in all of Thedas. The Inquisitor herself decided Celene would remain Empress and orchestrated it so that an elf rules by her side. My dear Doctor, if there is one thing I have learned from the history of Thedas, it is that one person can have all the power needed to change the current state of affairs.”


	15. You're In Trouble Now

Four days went by before Anders finally had a chance to go check on Fenris. It was true that he didn’t know where he and the elf stood – Anders still fretted he had crossed some line during the Massage Incident and Fenris was going to spurn his advances. Dorian’s visit had complicated matters further – if Anders and Fenris had relations before Fenris was no longer one of the mage’s patients, then it would jeopardize Anders’s professional reputation. But because Fenris was trapped here until Dorian could impose a new Archon in Tevinter, it meant that Anders and Fenris would have to dance around any feelings of lust for a longer time frame. Anders wasn’t too thrilled about that notion. Both his heart and his body _longed_ for Fenris in a way they hadn’t for anyone in a very long time.

Yet because Anders was truly a masochist at heart when it came to his own well-being, he decided to make himself look a bit more presentable before going to check in on the warrior. Opening a cupboard in his washroom, Anders took out a small contraption that he used to re-pierce his ears. It was a combination of science and magic that he had looted off of a body during his Grey Warden days and cleaned thoroughly. He decided to place a pair of emerald studs in the newly re-opened holes – it wasn’t until after he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized they matched Fenris’s eyes. Blushing at the realization, Anders smiled to himself as he opened up another drawer and looked inside. Before parting ways, Isabela had given him a series of makeup tools. She had always said that a bit of eyeliner would make his eyes pop and Anders had appreciated the sentiment. He had worn the stuff before and agreed that Isabela did know what she was talking about when it came to bringing out peoples’ best features. With the steady hands of a surgeon, Anders gently and slowly applied the black eyeliner and then added on a bit of mascara to follow. Taking a breath to steel himself, he looked up into the mirror at the final product.

_How could anyone resist this?_

Pushing aside the negative thoughts that quickly followed that question, Anders put the items away and decided to change out of his medical coat and into a black tunic. Grabbing his staff, Anders headed for the warrior’s room, heart pounding in his chest all the way.

**XXXXXX**

 When he opened the door to the warrior’s room, he found Fenris performing a yoga pose. The elf’s right foot rested on the floor, balancing the rest of his body that hovered parallel to the ground. The position gave Anders a delicious view of Fenris’s ass and shirtless back muscles. Reminding himself to fight the urge to stare, Anders cleared his throat as Fenris righted himself and turned around. The warrior looked healthier than he had the first few days when he had been brought in to Thekla Clinic. The color had returned to his face completely, his hair was neatly combed, and the majority of the wounds on his back seemed to be healing nicely. He would still need the cream but at least nothing was life-threatening anymore. As a doctor, Anders was pleased with the results and told Fenris as much.

The warrior smirked and couldn’t help but roll his shoulders – the action nearly causing Anders to flick his gaze back down to the warrior’s uncovered chest.

“The pain is nearly gone on all accounts. I suspect I’ll be out of your hair relatively soon.”

Anders frowned and shook his head as he replied, “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, though I am impressed with the fast rate of your recovery. Orana told me your lyrium markings activated without your notice while you were training…?”

Fenris sat cross-legged on the bed while Anders took his usual chair. To Anders’s selfish happiness, Fenris didn’t put his shirt back on.

“I wouldn’t have realized if she hadn’t stopped me from training to inform me. But I did not feel any pain or magical enhancement of my energy levels when they activated. It was an odd sensation. I suspect that had she not been there to keep an eye on me, I would have kept training as if nothing were amiss. I have never experienced something like that before. I’ve done several workout routines and breathing exercises and the like since then and the markings haven’t activated.”

“Hmm. It could have been a fluke of recovery, but I would like to keep an eye on you during your next physical workout just to be sure. May I examine you?”

Fenris nodded his consent and Anders raised his hands. As his magic crackled and spread across the warrior’s body, both men were silently aware of the tension between them.

Once Anders finished his full inspection, he cut off the magical flow and cleared his voice. “You’re healing up nicely, but I do have to advise you to continue to take it somewhat easy. You don’t want to do anything too strenuous that will upset your injuries. If you’re feeling up to it, we can go down to the training room and I can supervise your training to make sure you aren’t doing too much or doing anything to negatively affect your body since you haven’t been down there yet today to my knowledge.”

Fenris could feel the lyrium in his body tickling at the feel of Anders’s magic but, like the first time he had been healed by the mage while conscious, it wasn’t a bad feeling. His body tingled and longed for more interaction with Anders. 

When he looked up into the mage’s face for the first time that day, what he saw gave him pause. Anders looked different.

Anders looked…hotter?

No, it wasn’t that he looked _hotter_ per say, but the changes were definitely significant in a striking way. The doctor’s ears had been re-pierced and held a pair of emerald studs that contrasted the mage’s hair color beautifully. Dark, painted lines outlined those amber eyes and Fenris felt himself drawn in. He couldn't look away.

Fenris felt his throat go dry.

“You’ve...changed your look.”

Anders blinked and bit his lip – Fenris openly tracked the movement with his eyes.

“I just wanted to try something different. You changed your look.”

Fenris blinked and regained his composure. Anders was right.

Giving the mage a flirtatious smirk, he replied, “You said it yourself, this look suits me. The makeup and earrings are a nice touch. Did you do it yourself?”

“Ah, yes. They were pierced before so re-opening the holes wasn’t a big deal. I was just in the mood for something…new.”

“‘New’ seems to be good for you.”

For a moment Anders wished that Fenris _wasn’t_ his patient and that he could lean forward and capture those lips without regard. The warrior licked his lips and Anders tracked the motion with his eyes. He wanted to flirt back with Fenris, Maker take him, he _wanted_ to. Anders opened his mouth to give some kind of reply but a knock at the door interrupted him. Turning his slightly irritated gaze to the door, Anders watched Orana hesitantly poke her head in.

“Pardon the interruption, but the training room is available for you if you want it now, Doctor.”

Fenris smirked as he stood up to lead the charge. Looking over his shoulder, he gave Anders his best look of seduction and asked, “Shall we away, Doctor?”

Anders nearly keeled over whereas Fenris couldn’t help but let his smirk grow. The warrior was _definitely_ going to enjoy seducing the mage…the only question was how to go about bedding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really heating up! In the next chapter, Anders is going to make Fenris aware of Dorian's plot and things will...escalate. Please leave a comment, even if it's just a flail because all the love helps give me the drive to update faster :) Also, if there are any artists out there and you want to draw fan art for this story, I'd be happy to include it! You can either submit it to me here, through PM, or through my tumblr account: swankaliciouschekov. Feel free to hit me up on tumblr if you want to talk about the fic too :) Side note: this chapter's title is from Isabela's fight dialogue.


	16. Come And Face Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders tells Fenris of the news that he must remain at Thekla Clinic despite his injuries healing and Fenris does not take the news well. A fight breaks out and an old friend appears. (Author's Note: I'm very proud of this chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. It's very angsty and heavy and honestly I'm super proud of it. Please tell me what you think and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

As he watched Fenris train, Anders was reminded of just how powerful and intimidating the elf could be in the midst of battle. His body moved with a fluidity that only years of fighting and practice could prove. The muscles in his back contracted and pulsed as he swung his blade left and right, hacking up the practice dummies with relative ease. Though they were indeed reinforced with a combination of magic and science, it didn’t take Fenris long to completely run them through. Anders knew his eyes kept straying across the warrior’s body, performing a combination of medical examination and lustful longing. For the first time in a while, Anders was struck with just how much he missed being in battle with the warrior by his side. Fenris was beautiful when he was in battle.

Fenris cleared the dummy’s head of its body and paused in his attack to take a drink of water. The change in his breathing from the workout was barely noticeable and Anders envied him for it. The warrior’s stamina was certainly something.

“Soon I’ll be able to return to the field, wouldn’t you say?”

The question pulled Anders out of his reverie and he blinked up at the warrior. Fenris was smirking but there was a hope in his eyes that broke the mage’s heart. Anders knew he had to tell Fenris about Dorian’s conversation with him but he had been dreading this moment. There was no possible way Fenris would take the news well.

Frowning, the mage rubbed the back of his neck. “Fenris, there’s something I must talk to you about.”

Raising an eyebrow, Fenris rested his sword against the wall and sat opposite Anders on a workbench.

Anders risked a look behind him and saw that Orana was patiently waiting outside of the training room on lookout duty with her back to the men. She wouldn’t overhear. Plus the training room was soundproof.

“While your injuries have indeed been healing spectacularly – truly a marvel to any modern medicine I’ve seen – I cannot…release you yet.”

“Why not?”

Anders swallowed and looked down at the bench between them. “The Archon has labeled all members of the Inquisition traitors and criminals. Any and all members of the Inquisition caught on Tevinter lands are to be immediately killed.”

“So? You cannot be so naïve as to believe the Inquisitor is going to hamper her cause just because the head of the Magisterium decrees it.”

“No, but there is a greater cause for caution now. The minute you step outside of this clinic you will be at the mercy of any and all Tevinter forces. The combined effort of many players has kept your whereabouts secret for this long but the minute you go outside, you will be a target…a target that the Inquisition cannot provide adequate resources to protect.”

“I don’t understand,” Fenris frowned as he cocked his head, letting his hair fall slightly over his eyes. “Commander Cullen –”

“Has been very nearly killed this week by agents of the Magisterium,” Anders cut in. “The Inquisitor has not backed down but merely changed her plan of attack. She cannot risk the safety of her soldiers with so much attention being placed on destroying the Inquisition’s forces in Tevinter. It seems the Archon has momentarily focused his attention on depleting the Inquisition’s presence in Tevinter over dealing with the Qunari.”

Fenris stood up from the bench and took a few steps away from Anders. Not turning back to face the mage, he asked, “Why was I not told this directly?”

“Spymaster Harding couldn’t risk telling you what I’m about to and have it overheard by the wrong people.”

Fenris turned his head slightly and caught the mage’s eye.

Anders took a breath and confessed, “There is a plan to have the current Archon assassinated and have one with more…progressive views put in his place.”

Fenris gave a bitter scoff and shifted his weight as he crossed his arms. “What makes you, or anyone else for that matter, ever think that a new Archon would outlaw slavery? The Magisterium would never allow –”

“Any magisters who oppose the orders of the new Archon would be assassinated or bribed.”

“And you think that’s enough?”

“Dorian thinks –”

Fenris let out a short bark of humorless laughter. “A _magister_? You think a _magister_ is really going to change Tevinter so severely?”

“He wants Tevinter to become something better –”

“For his own selfish goals, not for the people of Tevinter – not for the _slaves_ of Tevinter –”

“He is working alongside the Inquisition –”

“You don’t know what he’s really like! You don’t know what _they’re_ like! Magisters have no problem having the Archon assassinated, sure, but they would just as easily turn their backs on their so-called _friends_ –”

“Fenris –”

“I must speak with Harding.”

“You can’t.”

Fenris pursed his lips as his eyes narrowed at the mage. “You’re going to tell me what I can and cannot do?”

“You’re the one who places so much faith and trust and pride in your precious Inquisition! Can you not take a moment to realize just how much a simple communication from you could put them in jeopardy? Harding’s people are good, but Tevinter’s doubled its spy count. If anyone catches wind of this, you can kiss your dreams of freeing Tevinter slaves goodbye.”

Fenris turned harshly away from him again and stalked a few paces away to the other end of the training room. He knew that Anders had a point but not being able to talk to anyone…not being able to leave…it reminded him too much of…

_No!_

The warrior’s markings began to softly glow. Anders leapt to his feet but when he drew closer to Fenris he slowed and held up his hands in caution.

“Fenris, I do not want to make you feel imprisoned.”

“Then let me go.”

“You’ll die.”

“Then I will do so with pride and the warmth of the sun on my back.”

“Fenris, you’re not thinking rationally –”

The warrior spun around as the glow of his markings burned brighter. His emerald eyes had begun shining with the blue-white glow of lyrium.

“I will _not_ be held captive by another mage –”

“Fenris, I am not Danarius. I am _trying_ to look out for you –”

“By cutting me off from everything I care about?”

“It’s for your safety! And for the safety of your bloody Inquisition –”

“If there were suffering mages out there, you would not let yourself be detained! You would rather die fighting for a cause than be held captive. You – you _hypocrite_!”

“I don’t have thousands of people chanting my name!” Anders shouted. “I don’t have thousands of people counting on me and my success anymore! I can never leave this place but you _can_ and you _will_ , I promise you that, just as soon as it’s safe enough for you to travel –”

“ _Fuck_ your protection! I will not be caged for eternity!”

“I am not trying to cage you –”

“HYPOCRITE!”

As Fenris swung with all of his markings glowing more brightly than they had in years, Anders grabbed his staff and cast mind blast. When Fenris passed the resistance check and started running for his sword, Anders cast paralyze but to no affect. A quick barrier, crushing prison, and cone of cold followed but nothing could hinder Fenris’s fury. Anders quickly leapt out of the way as Fenris swung his sword, causing sparks to fly as it grated against the steel floor.

“Fenris, stop this!”

“And to think I thought I could trust you. To think I thought that I could open myself up to you…”

“Fenris!”

“NO! You mages are all the same!”

Fearing for his life but not wanting to injure Fenris, Anders tried again to cast petrify to no avail. The warrior powered through the attack and hurled himself at Anders.

Just as the warrior’s blade was about to collide with the mage’s staff, a burst of fireball consumed the warrior. Fenris’s body hit the ground. The warrior’s eyes burned with the glow of lyrium as they turned away from Anders to glare at the intruder.

Dorian Pavus stood, staff raised, with Orana fearfully standing behind him.

“Lower your blade, Fenris. This is not a fight you have hope of winning.”

Fenris snarled and raised his blade as he turned to face the newcomer – his eyes seeing red while shining blue. “ _Magister_ ,” he spat.

“Stop, don’t hurt him!” Anders’s cry was futile as Fenris charged at Dorian. The Tevinter magister quickly cast lightening, energy barrage, and fireball in rapt succession. Unbeknownst to him in his blind rage, the warrior’s injuries had been aggravated by the fight and were quickly re-opening.

“Dorian, stop! You’ll kill him!”

“That’s what he wants, isn’t it?” Fenris’s voice barely sounded the same. “That’s what _all_ magisters want!”

Anders closed his eyes and summoned all of his mana to cast sleep. As his magic pulsed throughout the room, the fight was stilled. Dorian staggered back in surprise at the power of Anders’s magic as Orana collapsed beside him. Fenris, who had been leaping through the air to strike Dorian before the doctor’s attack, crumpled to the ground at the combination of his re-opened injuries and the doctor’s spell. Anders himself fell to his knees as his body was depleted of strength. Panting, he looked up and met Dorian’s eyes from across the room.

“I need to make a call.”

**XXXXXX**

When he finally opened his eyes, Fenris was aware of three things:

  1. That he had been drugged for a period of time.
  2. That his body hurt like hell.
  3. That there was someone leaning casually against the wall beside his bed.



As his vision cleared, Fenris took in the smirking form of the figure beside his bed.

“Hello gorgeous.”

“Hawke?”


	17. The Weight Of The World Part One

Anders and Dorian had carried the warrior's body back to his room while Orana nervously dragged the warrior's blade behind them. She could barely carry it on her own but somehow she managed. Once Fenris had been set down upon his bed, Anders swallowed two lyrium potions and began healing the warrior.

The room was silent while he worked.

Dorian had really done a number on the elf. It would be a while before Fenris was up dancing around the room.

After Anders finished healing the brunt bulk of the injuries, he sat back, wiped his brow, and drank another potion.

Orana's quiet voice broke the tension in the air. "Doctor, should I -"

"I need more lyrium and elfroot. Get the supplies that will keep him under for a bit and have one of Harding's people help you with that," he replied soberly, gesturing to the elf's sword. "I want it secured in my office where I can keep an eye on it."

Orana nodded and quickly left, lugging the sword behind her. The room was once again silent as Anders resumed his healing and Dorian leaned against the wall, observing the mage's actions.

"If I may be so bold -"

"Haven't you done enough?" Anders's voice was cold. "Maker, you nearly killed him!"

"I had to protect you. You certainly weren't defending yourself to the best of your ability."

"He was injured - I didn't want to _kill_ him -"

"I didn't either but he had to be stopped before he killed you."

Anders gritted his teeth as he let the magic flow through him and into Fenris, healing what he could despite his weariness.

"If I may impose my opinion..."

Anders glanced up wearily. Dorian continued, "I would suggest putting a warrior you can trust on guard outside of this room with Orana. She is brave but she is nowhere near strong enough to help contain him should he break free."

"I have no warriors I trust here."

"May I suggest Krem?"

"Krem?" Anders audibly scoffed. "He is nowhere _near_ healed enough to -"

"He can hold his own and he will report to you immediately. You can trust him."

"Oh? And how do I know he won't go and tell that Qunari leader of his about the warrior's current state while my back is turned? You expect too much from me."

"Anders -"

"I _cannot_ risk -"

"Your love is admirable," Dorian whispered, "and I have nothing but the highest of respect for you...but you _must_ trust Krem."

"Why should I?"

Silence resumed as the two looked at one another. Dorian saw the helplessness and the fear and the sadness in the Fereldan mage's eyes over what had happened with Fenris. He saw it in the broken expression of his face, in the smeared eyeliner that left dark streaks, and in the heavy rise and fall of the mage's chest as he struggled to keep his breath. Anders had reached his breaking point - he had betrayed the elf's trust in order to protect him and that was something Dorian could relate to all too well. Slowly, the Tevinter mage reached for the necklace that hung around his neck, hidden by his robes, and held it out to Anders.

"Do you know what this is?"

"I am aware of the significance of it," Anders replied after a moment as he eyed the dragon tooth. "Bull give it to you?"

Dorian nodded and swallowed uncomfortably. "He would surely kill me if he knew of what I was about to do."

Anders quirked a brow in confusion. Dorian took a step forward and kneeled down beside the warrior's bed. Handing the necklace over the warrior's unconscious body, he held it out to Anders.

"If Krem betrays you or fails you in any way...you can do whatever you want with this. You can sell it, dispose of it, destroy it, whatever - you can even flaunt it for Bull that I let you borrow this. I know of no other way to promise my loyalty and the loyalty of the Chargers. Krem will not fail you. If it comes to it, he would give his life to protect the elf. Though, I pray it never comes to that. Fenris will be safe under the protection of the Chargers, but I need your permission for this to work."

Anders gazed into those grey orbs and saw that Dorian Pavus was vulnerable. The Tevinter mage was truly offering his heart in this deal and the heavy realization made Anders's breath stutter a bit.

"You would offer me that?"

"It is the only way I know I can convince you that I will not betray you."

Anders swallowed as his eyes drifted back to the necklace. Shakily, he reached out and took the necklace from the mage. "Krem will not be enough though. I need to call the one person Fenris will listen to in order to assure him that this is truly the best course of action."

"Will he listen?"

Anders glanced back at the warrior's unconscious face and frowned. "I really don't know. But he must if your plan is to work."

**XXXXXX**

Anders returned to his office and took the crystal he used to communicate with Harding. Whispering a spell against the glass, Anders waited for a familiar voice to answer.

"Champion-Viscount of Kirkwall at your service! How may I induce your suffering today?"

_Hawke_.

It was the first time in _years_ he had heard that voice and the words caught in Anders's throat. The mage was overcome with emotion and couldn't stop the tears that trickled down his cheeks.

"Hawke."

Silence met him for the briefest of moments before he heard a shuffling on the other end and an equally choked-up Hawke whisper, "It's you! Maker! Hang on, I need to get away from prying ears." After a minute or so, Hawke was back and speaking a mile a minute through the orb, "Anders! _Maker_ , I can't believe you've gone this long without calling me! You haven't gotten yourself into terrible trouble, have you? I've missed you so. Are the lands treating you okay there? You've been eating properly, I hope? If not then I'm going to send the finest of baskets - at least twelve - to you immediately. I thought you'd forgotten about me."

The last part was whispered and Anders couldn't fight the pull at his heartstrings. Despite the tears of relief and joy at hearing the voice of his fellow mage, Anders couldn't stop smiling. "I could never forget about you, Hawke. You've done so much for me."

"Eh, smuggling you to and fro through back channels and connections hardly came close to the struggle of fighting the Arishok one on one. But I digress."

Anders cleared his throat but it took him a bit to find his words. "It really is good to hear your voice. How are things?"

"Kirkwall's rebuilding largely thanks to Varric's effectiveness as co-viscount. Aveline's still captain and constantly hounding me about the 'no good deeds' I do throughout the city that may or may not leave a few bodies behind. The chantry's still a pile of rubble but every few days a new person comes along and paints an addition to the rubble. I think the phrases 'Anders Was Right' and 'Mage Rights!' and 'Mages Should Be Free' have now become one with whatever was left of the building's foundation with how many times they've been painted on the rubble. I may or may not have added a few of the additions myself, but don't tell Aveline. There's also a statue where your clinic used to be that Varric _swears_ is of Andraste, though many dispute this because of the amount of cats the figure is holding."

Had he been a prouder man, Anders would have been embarrassed with just how freely the tears were streaming down his face at Hawke's words. But given how touched he was that the mages of Kirkwall supported his actions, even this many years _after_ his actions, Anders considered his personal reaction understandable.

"Thank you, Hawke. That's...well that's..." the words wouldn't come and Hawke seemed to understand. Hawke always understood.

"Hey now, don't go getting all teary eyed on my account. I'm just updating you on stuff. What's been happening in your life? Any handsome patients catch your eye?"

Anders wondered for a brief second if Hawke was referring to Fenris but of course, he probably was in some obscure way. Of course Hawke would eventually find out about Fenris. Hawke always found out.

"There is one, but he hates me now. I had to betray his trust and drug him in order to keep him safe and secure the safety of the group he works for. Given his past, you can understand why that would...upset him. I was wondering if you could help me out?"

A pause. Then an audible smile as Hawke gave a soft laugh and replied, "Darling, for you two I'd do anything. It really is amazing the shit you both get yourselves caught up in when I'm not around. I'll see if I can sneak away from Varric for a few days and catch a ride. Stay safe!" With that, Hawke hung up the line and Anders was left sitting at his desk in awe, staring blankly at the warrior's sword propped up against the office wall.

Just like that Hawke was coming to Tevinter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal defense for having Hawke not use code words or any of the careful codings that Harding uses when conversing with Anders is because Hawke is the human embodiment of the phrase "fight me" and if anyone tries to fuck with Anders they're most definitely going to have to deal with a very angry Hawke and nobody in their right mind wants that. My headcanon Hawke also is the type to drop everything to help his friends in need - and of course leave all of the heavy work to Varric. The next chapter will feature more Hawke and flash back to Fenris waking up. There was more Dorian and Anders interaction I wanted to include but it seemed too wordy, so I might incorporate it into another chapter. (Mostly involving Dorian helping Anders with fashion and makeup). Please, please review, it means more to me than you know and every review really does make my day - no matter how inarticulate or composed of random letters of excitement it is. Thank you staying with me so far!


	18. Here They Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke arrives in Tevinter and Fenris wakes up...

Isabela's was not an uncommon face in Kirkwall. Every other month or so she would pull into port with her fleet of ships and round up the old crew for a few raunchy nights of Wicked Grace and catching up. Therefore, it was fairly easy for Hawke to get in contact with her and request her assistance in traveling to Tevinter. After thanking her for her help with huge sums of gold and flirtatious comments, Hawke made their way through war-trodden lands during the cover of night. They arrived at Thekla Clinic just as the sun was barely skimming the horizon not long after Anders's initial call for help. The first familiar face to greet them was that of Orana. They picked her up and spun her about, laughing joyfully at being reunited with their old servant. After catching up for a bit, Orana led them through the neat halls of the hospital and to Doctor Crowfeather's office. Because it was still early, there were not many doctors or nurses wandering through the halls. Not that Hawke was _trying_ to be covert. Giving her former employer a supportive smile, Orana left to resume her post outside of the injured warrior's door. Hawke raised their hand and held it over the door for a moment before knocking. 

Hawke had hoped that Anders would have put on a bit more weight, fixed up his look, and adjusted to a healthy lifestyle in Tevinter. Yet despite the mage's new hair color, nice makeup, and fancy robes, Hawke still saw that the mage was far too lanky and looked way too exhausted.

"Hawke! Maker, but it's good to see you!"

_Anders_. 

Hawke was momentarily floored at seeing him again after so long. Their body moved before they could think and Hawke was suddenly embracing Anders and holding him tightly. Breathing in the familiar smell of lyrium and elfroot, Hawke tightened their grip as they held the mage.

"And to you as well. I...I've missed you. Shit, I promised I wasn't going to make a scene."

Anders clenched his fists in the fabric of Hawke's tunic and the two were content to simply hold one another for a few moments as Hawke started crying.

"This is so embarrassing. I promise the years have made me suaver than I was in the old days."

Anders couldn't help but chuckle at that as a few tears of his own slipped out. Soon he slowly pulled back, holding Hawke by the shoulders with glistening eyes and a beaming smile. "You look handsome as always."

Hawke laughed with a blush and flirted, "And you look as beautiful as a sunrise during Saturnalia. Though, I wish you were getting more food and sleep. How is Justice?"

"Purr-fect, as always," Anders quipped, causing Hawke to laugh. "He insists I'm distracted and...well...I suppose I am."

"Yes, I heard Fenris was injured and staying here. Funny how having Varric as co-viscount ensures that news never misses my ears."

Anders gestured for Hawke to sit and caught his friend up on the situation and the events that had transpired over the last few weeks. Anders thought about leaving out his affections for the warrior but he could never keep anything from Hawke.

"I thought we had been growing...closer. I was on the verge of asking him to pursue something with me when he was no longer my patient but then I found out about this plan to assassinate the Archon and, well..."

"You think your chances are ruined."

Anders nodded and Hawke let out a heavy sigh. "I can certainly understand _why_ you would think that. Fear not; I'll have a talk with our favorite, broody elf and patch things up."

"I fear it is not that simple. I did the one thing that ruined his trust in me. In his mind, I am no better than Danarius. If he found out I was starting to develop affections, he would be -" Anders cut off with a sigh of his own as he ran his fingers through his hair. "He would think I had been trying to take advantage. At the time I had been acting based on what I thought would be the right path but now I fear he will never understand...He'll never forgive me." 

"You always did have a habit of being harder on yourself than you needed to be," Hawke replied somberly, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on Anders's shoulder. "Give it time, he'll come around. In the meantime, let me talk to him."

Anders's eyes shone with gratitude. "Hawke, I appreciate -"

"Hey, hey, don't go all sappy on me. What did I say over the crystal? It's fine, really," Hawke reassured with a big smile. "I wish I could have seen you both under slightly less dire circumstances, but I'm just happy to see you both okay. Well...more or less." The mage gestured to a collection of wine bottles sitting on Anders's windowsill. "Now, I think I'm going to need a little bit of that stuff in my system before I go deal with our broody elf. What do you say?"

**XXXXXXX**

Taking in the battered form of Fenris was difficult for Hawke. Seeing someone so close to him injured had never been easy in the past but this time the circumstances were a bit different.

Fenris had changed in the years since Kirkwall, that much was obvious. He looked  _hotter_ , if that was even possible. Hawke figured that if Anders and Fenris ever  _did_ enter a relationship with one another, then they were two  _very_  lucky men. 

**XXXXXXXX**

The return to consciousness was a slow one for Fenris. His mind felt hazy and his body sagged against the mattress. It took him an embarrassingly long time to open his eyes and wait for his vision to clear enough to take in his surroundings. When he did, he noticed three things:

  1. Judging by the heavy cotton feeling in his mouth, he had been drugged for a period of time.
  2. That his body hurt like hell.
  3. That there was someone leaning casually against the wall beside his bed.



Fenris’s mouth moved but no sound came out as his eyes raked over the impassive figure of Hawke leaning against the wall. It took him a few, awkward moments of just staring at the visitor and trying to remember how to talk before he could get out the name.

“Hawke?”

Hawke smiled not unkindly and took a few steps forward to sit in the chair usually occupied by Anders. When Hawke spoke, it was slow so that Fenris could register the words in his abnormal state.

“Hello gorgeous. Glad to see you still remember me.”

Fenris swallowed, trying to clear the awful taste from his mouth. Hawke seemed to understand and lifted a glass of water to Fenris’s lips. The elf struggled to take a sip at first, but with Hawke’s help, he was able to get half the contents of the glass down.

“Easy, there you go,” Hawke whispered soothingly as they drew back the glass and rested it on the bedside table.

The water helped. Fenris’s eyes searched Hawke’s as he asked, "Am I dreaming?"

Hawke let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. "No, you are very much awake, dear friend. Do you remember what happened?”

Fenris’s brow furrowed as he thought back. “I…I lost control…but I don’t…I don’t remember why…” Fear crossed the elf’s face as he exclaimed, “I don’t remember –”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Fenris,” Hawke soothed as they reached out and rested a hand over the elf’s, cutting off the impending panic attack. “Your memories aren’t gone. This isn’t like before. Think hard.”

Fenris struggled to regulate his breathing for a few moments, letting Hawke’s touch and gentle words calm him down. He trusted Hawke. Hawke would never betray him. Hawke would  _never_  betray him.

After what felt like an hour, Fenris’s breathing had regulated and he blinked a few times as he voiced, “I lost control because…I was going to be kept here as a prisoner.” His gaze betrayed his confusion as he looked up into Hawke’s face, seeking clarification. “There was a magister…he defended the mage –…he defended Anders. I…I remember attacking Anders.”

“Yes, Orana was quite terrified. She was the one who fetched Dorian as backup.”

“I attacked Anders,” Fenris whispered. His gaze dropped as he stared at his lap, the expressions crossing and clouding his features as he struggled with himself. “He wanted to keep me here until Dorian’s plan could be completed but it was a foolish plan. I would have been made a prisoner for no reason.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Hawke replied, stroking their thumb over the back of Fenris’s hand. “Your fears, while understandable, took control.”

“He wouldn’t listen,” Fenris protested, but his voice wavered. “The mage wouldn’t listen to me!”

“I believe it,” Hawke replied calmly. “Anders thought he was doing what was best for you.”

“How dare he think he knows better. He –”

“Fenris, your markings.”

The elf looked at his arms and blinked at the sight. His markings had indeed begun flaring up. Fenris took a few gasps of air as Hawke resumed gently running his thumb back and forth over the back of the elf’s hand.

“Your control over the lyrium that brands you has weakened. The greater you’re injured, the less control you have. You _need_ rest.”

Fenris looked away from Hawke miserably. “The mage was supposed to fix it. He was supposed to find a way to…” he trailed off as the fight seemed to leave his body. He was tired.  _So_ tired. But he  _had_ to make Hawke understand. He wouldn't have attacked Anders without good reason. He wasn't that person anymore...if he ever was to begin with. Despite the way his body sagged, his voice replied steadily, “I will _not_ remain a prisoner here. I am needed out there – on the field. The slaves need me.”

“I know,” Hawke replied softly. And he did. He  _did_ know. Fenris held the eye contact and it was as if they had never parted - as if  _years_  hadn't gone by. Fenris felt as though he were back in Hawke's bedroom and the mage was, as always, completely understanding. "I know why you attacked him and I understand why he didn't fight back."

A silence fell for a few moments as Fenris struggled with himself. "I could have killed him."

"Probably."

"I would be free then."

"And you would have been immediately captured by the Archon's people the moment you stepped out of this clinic and brought to the hands of magisters far _worse_ than Danarius," Hawke replied evenly. Another silence fell for a few moments. Slowly, Hawke ventured, “You know…I spent a lot of time with the Inquisition during the fight against Corypheus. That _magister_ that opened up your wounds and caused your return to this bed is the same magister that sat here and assisted Anders in trying to heal you over the next few days. He’s the same _magister_ that risked losing his lover to prove a point of loyalty to you and the cause.”

Fenris glowered in response.

“The majority of the magisters in Tevinter _do_ use their power to abuse and take advantage of those in lower positions," Hawke continued, ignoring the dismal look on Fenris's face. "Your mistrust of them is understandable and I do not aim to make your past seem less validated in any way. But I agree with the Inquisitor and Dorian in believing that a new Archon  _could_  change things. Punish those who deserve it and free the slaves and whatnot. It’s not an easy solution and it will not resolve itself quickly, but there is a high chance of it working…and the others  _do_  make a solid argument for wanting to keep you safe and out of harm’s way.”

“I feel like a prisoner,” Fenris replied after a few moments as if that explained everything.

To Hawke, it did.

“I think I'm due for a vacation. I have no plans to return to Kirkwall quickly. I'll hang around while you recover. If you want, when you have recovered a bit more, I can spar with you like old times. I’m sure it’ll be better than beating the shit out of those practice dummies. Pathetic, really."

Fenris opened his mouth as if to argue but then closed it. His gaze traveled across the room and a grimace took his features. Hawke read his thoughts and said, "You won't be alone this time."

And that was something. It was what Fenris needed.

“I’m still not happy being stuck here.”

“No, old friend,” Hawke grinned broadly, “I didn’t think you would be.”

Fenris's face twisted into something unpleasant. "I'm going to have to face the mage, won't I?"

"I'm not nearly as good a healer as he, so...yes."

"I won't apologize."

Hawke laughed at the familiar burst of stubbornness. They barely contained the urge to reach out and brush a hand through the elf's hair fondly. "I never expected you to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep "they" and "them" pronouns when referring to Hawke, but if I messed up anywhere, please let me know. As always, I hope you enjoyed!


	19. Wound Me With Your Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders returns to heal Fenris but things do not go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Archive Of Our Own is having issues with sending out fic update notices. This fic, for example, says that it has not been updated since June, yet I have posted two chapter updates within a week of one another. So make sure you have read the last few chapters before reading this one in case you didn't get the email alerting you of the update. Please leave a review letting me know if there are any issues with this fic so that I can let the AO3 staff know.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

Hawke’s presence was comforting. Fenris was still not happy about his predicament but he was not unreasonable. Stubborn, yes. Unreasonable? Not by Hawke’s standards. And Hawke liked to think they had a pretty good grasp on the way Fenris thought by now. Deep down, Hawke knew that it was difficult for Fenris to accept the knowledge that he could have killed Anders. Even though Fenris’s reaction had been warranted, deep down, he didn’t truly wish the mage any harm. Fifteen years ago or so, maybe. But now?

Things had changed.

It became more evident to Hawke how drastically the dynamic between Fenris and Anders had shifted within the last few weeks when Anders finally made an appearance in Fenris’s bedroom.

When the doctor had entered, the warrior’s body had instantly stiffened. The elf’s gaze hardened and his mouth became a thin line. But Fenris didn’t attempt to leap out of the bed and attack Anders, so Hawke considered that a plus. Instead, the elf seemed to be feeling out the situation and how Anders would act. The doctor in question seemed to be doing the same.

Anders cleared his throat awkwardly and made his way to the chair opposite Hawke’s on the other side of the elf’s bed.

“How are you feeling?”

The mage seemed to flinch at his own words as the warrior’s gaze turned grittier.

“My wounds were reopened.”

“Yes, but they were healed quickly before any permanent damage could take place,” Anders replied, a slight edge in his voice. “In fact, having two mages work on you led to faster and cleaner healing –”

“I do not recall giving the _magister_ permission to assist in healing me.”

“He wanted to help –”

“So consent no longer means anything to you, does it?”

A tense silence emerged as Anders’s face fell.

Hawke cleared his throat and interjected, “Since it _was_ partially Dorian’s fault that you got re-injured, I can understand his wanting to help make things right. The fact that he’s a magister shouldn’t –”

“Don’t,” Fenris whispered darkly, turning his heated gaze from Anders to Hawke. “The fact that he’s a magister has _everything_ to do with it.”

Hawke held his gaze even as he sighed and caved, “I know. I am sorry.”

The warrior’s blood was boiling under his skin. He could feel his brands itching to alight and pluck the hearts from the bodies of the two people beside him. Fenris wanted to get away. He wanted to run and not have to face things. He wanted to get back out in the heat of battle and _change things_ _himself_.

“I understand that you hate me but I need to heal you,” Anders said bluntly. “Unless you _want_ your wounds to get infected and slowly rot you away, I suggest you let me do this for you.”

“Why don’t you just drug me again? It seemed to work well enough for you before.”

_Ah, there it was._

“I did not want your brandings to flare up while we tried to heal you,” Anders replied steadily after a heartbeat. “I do not know their capabilities or what their exact connection with you is. I was unsure of whether or not they would flare up and cause you to try and reject my healing in your sleep.”

“I do not have a spirit inside of me, controlling the things I say and do. My actions are mine and mine alone. The brandings merely amplify my abilities but they do not control me.”

“Right, of course,” Anders replied sarcastically. “Of course you would bring Justice into this –”

“Where is your spirit friend?” Fenris interrupted. His tone was calm but his eyes sparkled with a maliciousness Hawke had not seen in a long time. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Did you finally send him back to the Fade where he belongs or did you fuck that up too?”

“Fenris.”

The elf ignored the champion’s warning tone and instead kept his gaze on Anders. He watched the brief flash of hurt cast over the doctor’s face before Anders blinked and wrestled his emotions back into place.

“I am going to heal you.”

It was the elf’s turn to scoff as his bangs fell back over his eyes. “The last thing I want is help from someone like you.”

“Oh, we’re back to discrimination, are we? I should have known. Why in all of Thedas did I ever think you would get rid of your damn prejudices?”

“This is good,” Hawke interrupted in a forced, jovial tone. “You two are talking things out! Wonderful! Why don’t we take a little break and reconvene –”

“No, I want to hear what he has to say,” Anders cut in coolly. “Tell me again who it was that took the time to heal you when you were nearly killed by assassins? Remind me who it was that took you in, spent all of his time and energy on your pitiful body –”

“As if you would last more than a day out there yourself –”

“ _I_ didn’t choose to risk my life for a noble cause like you –”

“No, instead you caused destruction in Kirkwall for a hopeless cause and ran away to the land of abusers and the worst of mankind just to try and make yourself feel better for the shit you pulled.”

“I _had_ to run away –”

“To the land of _magisters_ who no doubt had no trouble at all taking you in. What with your power and righteousness for the cause of mages –”

“I had no other _choice_ –”

“OF _COURSE_ YOU HAD A CHOICE!” Fenris erupted. His brandings flared and crackled against his olive skin. He struggled to get his breathing under control and soon the flare of his brandings subsided into a dull glow. His gaze burned as he lowered his voice and hissed, “You had a choice.”

Hawke tried, “Fenris, he –” But Anders shook his head, causing Hawke not to finish his sentence.

“No, he…no,” Anders whispered. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and held his head a bit higher. “I have made many choices in my life. I _chose_ to destroy the Chantry. I _chose_ to give Hawke the ultimatum of killing me for it. I _chose_ to ask for Tevinter’s protection. I _chose_ to dedicate my life to reversing Tranquility and helping the sick and injured. I _chose_ to not defend myself in that training room. I _chose_ to cast sleep rather than kill you or Dorian. Were they the right choices?” Anders shrugged and continued steadily, “I do not know. But I know that I am trying to do the right thing and help those I can while I still have breath in my body. I thought you saw that as admirable.”

When Fenris didn’t reply, Hawke said slowly, “Anders, you _are_ someone to be admired. What you have done for the mages in Thedas is –”

“Too much, apparently,” Anders replied sharply. He gave a frustrated sigh and turned away from them both. “I…I need a break.”

“Run away, that’s what you always do,” Fenris spat. “It’s the only thing you know anymore.”

The doctor’s shoulders tensed up and Hawke cried out, “Maker, would both of you shut up? I’m sick of this. You two were getting along so well before this incident.”

The doctor’s voice was chillingly calm as he whispered, “Didn’t you hear him, Hawke? Mages don’t deserve to fall in love.”

Anders barely resisted the urge to slam the door behind him as he left. Hawke caught a glimpse of Orana and Krems’ worried looks before the door shut completely. The doctor’s words hung in the air unspoken.

_Mages don’t deserve to fall in love._

_To fall in love._

_Love._

Hawke turned in his chair and cast an accusatory eyebrow raise at Fenris. The elf swallowed uncomfortably.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Of course,” Hawke replied flatly, evidently not believing Fenris for a moment. “It seems to me that the only person having difficulty accepting his real feelings…is you.”

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

Hawke just gave him a flat look and Fenris rubbed a hand through his hair in response. “He…” the elf trailed off with a sigh.

“You were harsh,” Hawke said bluntly. “Surely you know that.”

Fenris didn’t meet his gaze as he looked somberly at the door Anders had departed through. “I need time.”

Hawke nodded in understanding. “I think you both do. The problem with that is that he _is_ the best healer around here. You can’t get away from him and put some distance between you two until you’re all healed up.”

Fenris looked miserable and Hawke offered, “Why don’t I heal up some of the lesser stuff and we see if we can get some practice dummies in here? I know I need to hit something or I’m going to burst after that little spat.”

“Hawke, before, about…I didn’t mean –”

“Fen, do me a favor? Shut up.”

**XXXXXXX**

Anders stormed off to his office, hardly capable of holding back the tears. The warrior’s words had cut deeply. He knew Fenris was just angry and had lashed out because he himself was hurt, but the elf had gone too far. Slamming the door behind him, Anders slumped against the door and pulled his knees up to his chest. Resting his forehead on his crossed forearms, Anders took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself.

“YOU ARE UPSET.”

The booming voice startled him and Anders looked up to see the fluffy form of Justice standing in front of his desk.

“Justice! What…what are you doing up here?”

“IT HAS BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU HAVE COME DOWN TO WORK ON YOUR RESEARCH. I WAS CONCERNED. ORANA LET ME IN.”

“Of course she did,” Anders sighed as he wiped his face on a sleeve. Justice trotted up to him and Anders slid his legs to the floor so that he could scoop up the cat and hold him on his lap.

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

“It’s nothing,” Anders started automatically but one look from Justice made him sigh and relent, “Hawke is here. I hoped they would help patch things up between Fenris and I but I was right…Fenris hates me. His hatred for mages has not diminished in the slightest. I was wrong. I was so wrong.” He couldn’t fight the tears now. “I am an idiot.” Anders buries his face in Justice’s fur as the cat purred sympathetically.

“I AM SORRY FOR THIS INJUSTICE. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SLAY HIM?”

Anders laughed weakly and shook his head against the fur. “I just need to be strong enough to heal him with Hawke’s help and then he will be on his way. I’ll never have to see him and his prejudice again.”

Justice lifted a tiny paw and rested it on the doctor’s chest, over his heart. “YOU LOVE GREATLY, DEAR FRIEND. YOU SHOULD NOT LET THOSE WHO DO NOT APPRECIATE YOU USE IT AGAINST YOU.”

“No, you’re right,” Anders sighed, pulling Justice tighter against him. “Give me a few moments and then I’ll go back downstairs with you. We…we have work to do. There’s always work to do.”


	20. I Am Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine that Dragon Age 4 will allow you the option to create a character who will become the new Archon. So in this chapter, imagine that Laetu is that new character. I was originally going to have Maevaris become the new Archon, but then I realized that that wouldn't work. So here, have this instead.  
> I tried to pace this chapter out and explain things in-depth in a realistic manner. I thought that if I stretched this chapter out to cover each day that happens in that three weeks' time then it wouldn't have been true to the characters or plot. That being said, I hope that you really enjoy this chapter and that the slow build was worth it. The chapter after this one will pick up where this one left off, so no cliffhanger. We're getting to the end, though, and I would like to thank everyone who continuously supports this fic. You all are so wonderful and I'm glad that we could share this adventure together. Just a few chapters left after this one!

Two weeks.

For two weeks, Hawke split their time at Thekla Clinic between healing and providing companionship for Fenris, chatting with Orana, joking with Krem, and comforting/keeping Anders company. Hawke had half-expected the thick tension that had been caused by Anders and Fenris’ outburst to blow over by the end of the first week, but it had not. In those two weeks since, Anders had visited Fenris to check on his wounds a total of three times. He hadn’t monitored Hawke’s healing of the warrior, he hadn’t monitored the warrior’s training – instead he had only entered the room, briskly checked Fenris’s wounds, and left. The mage’s demeanor was always distant when he checked on Fenris. He spoke only when necessary, telling Hawke what to look for or what potions to use on Fenris, before he fled. Hawke knew that Fenris deserved the cold, silent treatment from the doctor, but they still wished they could convince the two to talk. The more time Hawke spent around them individually, the more they could see just how similar Fenris and Anders had become – and how their hearts longed for one another. The moments when Anders actually _would_ check on Fenris were painful.

Alone with Hawke, Anders showed his old, joking self, often discussing his research passionately with Hawke.  “We’re so _close_ , Hawke. So _close_ ,” the doctor would say. Yet Hawke knew that Anders had plunged himself headfirst into various tasks and research elements in part because he needed something to distract him from Fenris.

“You should talk to him, Anders. I know you think of him when you are not with him.”

The mage’s gaze would darken out of worry and embarrassment and he would quickly change the subject.

Similarly, when Fenris was alone with Hawke, it was easy. They would spar or heal or read together or just chat the hours by. Yet when Anders would come to check on the warrior’s wounds, Fenris wouldn’t say anything in response or look at the mage. Hawke knew the warrior was internally struggling with himself. He knew what he had said to Anders had been wrong but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to apologize yet. The warrior’s pride would not permit him to take the higher ground and make the first move in apologizing. Fenris hadn’t tried to escape the clinic either. He seemed stuck in some personal limbo of not knowing what to do. When Hawke would remind Fenris that what he had said had been hurtful and that he should apologize, Fenris would brush him off or change the subject. But Hawke knew Fenris was considering apologizing. He just needed time to formulate the words in his mind before he said them.

Over the course of those two weeks, Fenris’s wounds had, for the most part, re-healed. Hawke had begun sparring with Fenris – doing only light stuff at first and gradually moving up – but the warrior seemed grateful just to have Hawke beside him again. Hawke hadn’t realized how much they had missed training beside the warrior as well. It was refreshing from doing tiresome paperwork in Kirkwall.

**XXXXXXX**

It was two days before the two weeks had officially gone by when news of the Archon’s assassination hit Thekla Clinic. Of course, the ludicrous rumors spread like wildfire in wake of the news. In those two days, so many rumors were circulating the clinic that hardly anyone believed the truth: that an ex-Crow from Antiva was responsible for the murder. Hawke suspected that the overwhelming amount of rumors that traveled through the halls of the clinic were thanks to Spymaster Harding’s doing.

Communication increased between Spymaster Harding and Anders and Fenris as the Magisterium focused less on intercepting letters and more on imposing threats. Letters that were received by Anders were often relayed through Hawke to Fenris. Harding updated them on the situation as things developed, sending her love to them all and requesting Fenris’s patience. The elf would roll his eyes at her words but Hawke saw through the charade and knew Fenris was simply happy to be communicating with her again. Hawke listened in on a call Anders gave her – the first call he had given the dwarf in weeks. Anders apologized for being so abrupt with her the last time they spoke and asked her if there was anything he could help with. Listening to his conversation with Harding made Hawke feel as though there was hope for the mage and the warrior. They just needed to talk things out.

At the end of the Black Age some several decades ago, it had been decreed that magisters could not become Archon. Therefore, as the Magisterium fell into chaos trying to decide whether to put more efforts into attacking the Qunari or the Inquisition without the Archon’s final say, it was with a great deal of cunning and grace that a select few magisters proposed a campaign to have Laetu Morovos, a relative of a magister, become Archon. Laetu had led many expeditions against the Qunari Invasion and was a notable Altus. Because of the alleged rumors that Laetu held contempt for slavery and shared the Inquisition’s desire to see slavery outlawed in Tevinter, opposition rose quickly among the magisters. Dorian and Maevaris Tilani would certainly have their hands full in making sure Laetu’s rise to power was a smooth one. Hawke wasn’t particularly worried. Dorian had all the resources of both Tevinter and the Inquisition at his disposal to rid Laetu of any rivals.

“Do you know Laetu Morovos?”

Fenris shook his head. They had been in the middle of an intense sparring session when Hawke decided to bring up the subject. Orana had told Fenris the news but he hadn’t openly showed any reaction to finding out that Dorian’s plan to at least have the Archon assassinated had been a success. Clearly Fenris still didn’t believe installing a new Archon would change anything.

“I know of the family but not Laetu specifically. For a family of magisters, they openly showed their disgust for Danarius and his…experiments. I thought the father would openly vomit at the first sight of my…additions. For reasons Danarius never understood, I think they saw what happened to me as horrendous.”

“So…you liked them, then?”

“I did not say that.”

Hawke rolled their eyes.

**XXXXXXX**

It was into Hawke’s third week of staying at the clinic, and the second week of Tevinter being Archon-less, when news spread across Thedas that the cure for Tranquility had been finalized. The knowledge was spread far and wide by the Seekers until every corner of Thedas had heard the news. The White Divine embraced the cure and encouraged members of Thedas from every race to bring their Tranquil loved ones for reversal. When asked about how they found the cure, the Seekers and the Divine informed the public that they had shared their knowledge with one known as “Justice” and that their combined efforts led to the finalization of a cure. Hawke insisted on spreading the true identity of the sources in order to clear Anders’s name and give credit where credit was due, but Anders had persuaded him not to.

“Justice and I are not after glory. We are happy knowing that now nobody will be able to suffer the same fate as Karl and so many others before and after him.”

Hawke heavily disagreed with Anders. Surely the mage would be a welcomed hero back in Fereldan for finding the cure. Anders didn’t believe him though, and for good reason. Still, Hawke intended on secretly having Varric spread the tale of the mage whose passion for reversing Tranquility led to a finalization of the cure.

When the news broke, Hawke and Anders broke open a bottle of the finest wine between them to celebrate. Justice could not drink the wine, for he still held the body of a feline, but he did seem to enjoy himself and their shared victory. After they had gotten significantly drunk and Justice had fallen asleep, Hawke pulled the doctor into their arms and held him tightly.

“Karl would be so proud of you.”

Hawke didn’t have to look into the doctor’s face to know of the tears.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Three days after the cure for Tranquility had been announced, Anders heard a knock at his office door.

“Come in.”

The door hesitantly pushed open and Fenris stood in street clothing before the doctor. His typical black leggings, a black tunic, and a white underlay clothed his lithe frame.

“What are you doing here?” The doctor had expected it to come out harsh and accusatory but a hopeful tinge tainted his words. Even after all of this time, even after trying to close off his heart to the warrior for the past three weeks, Anders still could not fight the way he felt at the sight of the warrior. Struggling to keep his emotions pushed down, Anders watched as Fenris closed the door and walked further into the office.

“Orana and Hawke cleared the halls so that I could come here. I believe there is something I must say to you.”

“Come to try and kill me again?”

Fenris winced at the bitter, tired tone in the mage’s voice. He deserved that. “I wish to talk.”

Anders sighed and rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. He didn’t have any immediate patients or work to get to. Deep down, he knew Hawke had been right – Anders and Fenris _needed_ to talk. Especially before Fenris headed back out into the field. Anders had half-suspected Fenris to just slip out the door into the night without a goodbye. Perhaps the warrior had wanted to. He certainly still could. But Anders figured Hawke had talked the warrior out of choosing that path of action.

“The new Archon hasn’t been announced yet, so I cannot let you leave.”

Instead of flinching at the mage’s words, Fenris remained calm and nodded. “I know. But Harding’s reports that have made it through the wire tell me that that will change soon.”

Anders merely hummed in reply. He had read the reports as well and knew that Laetu had become Archon in everything but official title. Since the Magisterium was too busy with trying to get things in order, it had become a bit easier for Harding to keep in touch with Fenris and Anders through highly-coded transcripts. She still wasn’t communicating as much as she used to, but it was a start.

Anders gestured for Fenris to sit in the chair opposite his desk but the warrior remained standing.

“What I have to say will not take long.”

Anders looked up into his eyes and Fenris took a breath as he looked away.

“What I said to you was…cruel and undeserved. My past… _instances_ with abusive mages caused me to overreact. I am sorry...and I am sorry that it took me this long to say that.”

The warrior looked down at the floor and Anders’s heart lurched at the words. He had spent the last three weeks completely absorbed in his work to try and distract himself from the heartache Fenris had caused him. Now that the cure for Tranquility had been made public, Anders could only focus on his patients. Yet he had avoided Fenris and had tried to focus on menial healing tasks that should have distracted him.

He was wrong.

For a brief moment, Anders thought about dismissing Fenris’s apology and shooing the warrior out the door. But Anders could see that Fenris was really trying to make amends and that he truly did feel terrible. Anders could hold a grudge, or he could do what Hawke had continuously advised him to do and apologize. He knew his heart could not handle holding a grudge anymore against the elf. Kirkwall had taught him that.

“I avoided you because I thought that if I distracted myself, I could forget about you and the pain you caused me. But I could not. You were always at the back of my mind. You always are. I…” Anders let out a sigh of frustration. “Justice told me to move on and forget the entire thing. But Hawke made me realize I could not forget the way I feel about you. You’re so…” his voice trailed off as he looked up hopelessly into the warrior’s face. “I could not forget you. Even after you leave, I do not think I will be able to just push aside the way I feel about you.”

The corners of Fenris’s lips twitched up in a momentary smirk of self-hatred. “Justice no doubt thinks you deserve better. You do – deserve better, I mean.”

“Justice was defending my honor. He is a loyal friend, but a loyal friend who does not know that you did not mean it.”

“I upset you. No man is worth your heartbreak.”

Anders sighed and stood up. He crossed around the desk and stood beside the warrior. Fenris wouldn’t look up.

“When I knew we had the cure, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to share that with you.” The mage’s voice had gotten quiet as he admitted this vulnerable, innocent fact. It made Fenris’s heart twist into something heavily pained. He had disappointed Anders in more ways than one. He had to make it up to him.

“I should have gone to you,” Fenris admitted. His voice wavered and Anders knew he was struggling to get the words past his lips. “I was impressed with your feat and wanted to congratulate you. But my pride and selfishness held me back. I…I am sorry for the pain I caused you. You never deserved it. You never deserved me.”

“You’re wrong.”

Fenris’s gaze lifted a bit more but he couldn’t look the mage in the eye. Very gently, Anders reached out and cupped the warrior’s face. When Fenris didn’t flinch or pull away, Anders slowly lifted the warrior’s gaze to match his own. Softly, Anders repeated again in a whisper, “You’re wrong. You are without a doubt the most stubborn soul in all of Thedas besides me. But…maybe that’s why I think you are so right for me. I accept your apology.”

“You deserve love, Anders. I was wrong when I said you didn’t. You deserve to be loved.”

“I already am.”

Fenris stood up a bit straighter and kissed the mage.

It was just a brush of lips, but it was what both of their hearts had longed for since Fenris came to Thekla Clinic. Anders felt his inhibitions fly to the wind. Being Fenris’s doctor be damned – this was what he wanted. What he _needed_. What he deserved.

As soon as Fenris pulled back, hovering a breath between them, Anders immediately asked, “May I kiss you again?”

Chuckling deeply in that husky tone, Fenris replied by meeting Anders’s lips once more. This time, the kiss lasted longer than a brief second. The mage’s hand that cupped his cheek slid back into the warrior’s hair and Fenris’s hands greedily found their way to the mage’s hips and pulled Anders flush against him. A relieved sigh at having been accepted escaped Anders and Fenris tightened his grip. They felt so right for one another. When they broke apart for air, Fenris whispered, “I do not deserve you.”

“Could the Inquisition’s Second-In-Command accept the attention of a mage?”

Fenris broke into a genuine grin as he kissed Anders again. Against the mage’s lips, he whispered, “Only if a mage could show patience for a fool.”

Anders laughed and wrapped his arms around Fenris to pull the warrior tightly against him. Fenris returned the embrace and they stood like that for a long time, just holding one another.

They had found one another and neither could let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to review! I hope you enjoyed it!!


	21. In My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have sex for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep the instances of "Anders's" and "Fenris's" down to a minimum so that I wouldn't be a total mood killer with the annoying grammar. Hope you enjoy this filth!

Anders had thought Fenris would be wary of physical intimacy but the warrior proved him wrong, as he seemed to so often do. Apparently a few months of being in sexual frustration limbo had done it for the warrior. Fenris gripped the mage’s hips in his hands as he dominated their kiss. Fenris pushed his tongue into the mage's mouth and Anders let out a groan at the feeling. Anders caressed the elf’s cheek in his hand as he pinned him against the desk. With nowhere to go, Fenris slid his leg between the mage’s and let Anders feel his quickly-hardening length. When Anders sighed out the warrior’s name, Fenris felt his heart beat faster in his chest. He wanted this. He wanted Anders. It was time.

Pulling back slightly so that he could feel Anders’s breath panting lightly against his lips, Fenris took in the blown pupils of the doctor, the mussed up hair, and the wandering hands that made every inch of the warrior’s skin feel as if it were on fire.

“I am yours.” The confession tumbled out of the warrior's mouth before his brain could properly realize what he had said. But Fenris didn't regret it. Instead, he realized as he watched the mage's eyes grow wide that he meant it. He truly meant it.

Hawke would tease him for ages.

Anders swooped in for a kiss upon hearing the words. He couldn’t hold himself back. His soul had longed for Fenris for far too long and with the fate of the unknown resting heavily on their shoulders, Anders wasn’t about to waste this chance. He needed to make up for lost time, after all.

Fenris let his hands glide up the mage’s chest, feeling the hardened plane of his body under the robes. When his hands came to the first set of clasps that held the robes fastened tightly, Fenris looked up into the mage’s eyes for permission.

“Please.” Anders's voice broke with that one request.

How could Fenris deny him any longer?

Fenris’s fingers were deft in their quick motions to undo the doctor’s robes. As article after article fell from the mage’s shoulders, his chest, Anders continuously glided his hands across the warrior’s body. In the back of his mind, Anders could feel the lyrium in the warrior’s body responding to his arousal. As more and more of the mage’s skin was revealed, the lyrium in Fenris sang stronger. When the mage’s chest was bare, Fenris paused his kissing to gaze upon the sexy body of his beloved but the sight of a Qunari necklace gave him pause. Fenris had seen similar necklaces many times during his time in Seheron. He knew the significance of the item Anders wore around his neck. Pausing in his actions, Fenris looked questioningly up into the mage’s eyes.

“It’s not mine,” Anders said quickly before the warrior’s gaze could turn accusatory. Quickly Anders reached behind his neck and unclasped the necklace, taking it off and resting it on the desk. “I was holding it for a friend as a promise. It’s not what you think.”

But Fenris’s heart had already lurched uncomfortably in his chest. As his gaze darkened, Anders took the elf’s face in both his hands and lifted the warrior’s gaze to meet his.

“Fenris, I am yours and yours alone. I promise.”

The warrior bristled but at the gentle motion of the mage’s thumb rubbing back and forth over his cheek and at the earnest look in the mage’s eyes, he knew Anders was telling the truth. Nevertheless, Anders repeated the words as he slowly leaned in to kiss Fenris.

“I am yours.”

As the warrior’s hands hesitantly resumed their placement on the mage’s chest, Anders whispered again against his lips, “I am yours.”

Fenris felt his heart melt as Anders repeated the words, moving his lips from the warrior's lips to his neck to his shoulder, covering the warrior with loving affection.

It seemed that with proper shelter and food, Anders’s figure had strengthened in a much healthier way since Kirkwall. The scars rested against the muscles nicely and the bones that once nearly protruded from the doctor’s rib cage were tucked away under a healthy layer. Fenris resolved to feeling every inch of skin he could get his hands on.

“Fenris.”

The warrior ignored the whispered plea as his hands slid up and down the mage’s chest, tracing every scar. Fenris hoped to one day be able to lick the length of each one. Anders tried ducking back down for another kiss and Fenris complied. His fingers found the mage’s nipples and Anders let out a harsh gasp when the elf tweaked and pulled at them, raking his nails over them and up and down the mage’s chest.

“ _Fenris_.”

_I could be slashed by darkspawn right now and I’d die a happy man_ , Fenris thought as he savored those breathy pleas from the mage. Fenris loosened the robes around the mage’s waist as they kissed and felt more than watched the fabric fall to the ground around the doctor’s feet. The mage whimpered as the cool air of the room hit his naked form.

The warrior’s hands couldn’t be still – they grabbed and pulled Anders flush against him again to knead the flesh of his bare ass. Fenris felt his mouth go dry as Anders pressed his erection into the warrior’s hip and leaned down to suck marks into the warrior’s neck.

"Need you," Anders whispered against his skin.

Fenris moaned at the sensation of the mage’s tongue lapping over and sucking harshly on the brandings on his neck. Fenris barely registered as Anders’s hands reached under the bottom hem of his tunic to pull the fabric up. Raising his arms above his head to help the mage out, Fenris allowed both his tunic and the undershirt to be discarded from his body. The mage had seen Fenris shirtless countless times before but it never ceased to amaze him just how handsome the warrior was.

Anders leaned in again for a greedy kiss while he took the warrior’s hands in his and pulled him towards the mattress. Anders lay down on the mattress first, pulling Fenris on top of him and kissing him all the while. Once on top of the mage, Fenris paused in kissing him to simply look down and take in the mage’s flushed face.

Anders was beautiful.

 Anders caught the awed look in the elf’s face and a smile graced his face as he gave a nervous chuckle. “What is it?”

“You,” Fenris whispered back. The raw emotion in his voice in that simple explanation caused the mage’s blush to deepen. "You're beautiful, Anders." Fenris dipped down and gently kissed Anders as he pressed his hardness against the mage’s. As Anders let out a groan at the sensation, Fenris whispered, “You deserve the world.”

"So give it to me," Anders replied breathlessly. 

Fenris's heart clenched. He would. He would give Anders everything he deserved and more. Leaning down to kiss the mage again, Fenris silently promised he would never again give the mage a reason to cry over him.

The feeling of Anders's cock against him brought him back to the present. In one swift motion, Fenris shoved his pants past his hips and off his feet and slotted their bodies together. The satisfied moan Anders released would plague Fenris’s dreams for the rest of his days. Taking them both in hand, Fenris gave them both a few strokes as he kissed Anders. He was quickly realizing that kissing the mage was something of an addiction. Anders carded his fingers through the warrior’s hair as he lifted his hips to meet the elf’s pulls.

“Fenris,” Anders begged in-between moans, “please. More. More, Fen.”

“I’ll give you more,” Fenris replied as he reached down to mark the doctor’s neck with several dark hickeys. “I’ll give you everything.” While sucking an especially dark mark into the mage’s skin, Fenris glanced down and caught sight of a familiar vial next to the mage’s bed. Reaching over with his free hand, Fenris took the vial and uncapped it. He made quick work of lathering his hand in lube and returned to slicking up their cocks. Anders cursed at the sensation and Fenris couldn’t hold back a throaty curse of his own. It felt wonderful.

It was what he had longed for.

“Fen,” Anders whispered, bringing the warrior’s gaze back up to meet his. “Will you fuck me?”

Fenris’s smooth motion of jerking them off jilted as the mage’s request caused him to pause. “Are you sure?”

Anders nodded as he reached up and pressed a fleeting kiss to Fenris’s lips. “Only if you want to. We don’t have to rush –”

“No, no,” Fenris interrupted quickly, leaning down to rest his forehead against Anders’s. A breathless laugh escaped him. He resumed stroking the mage’s cock against his. “I’ve waited so long for you. For this. I…”

Anders seemed to understand that Fenris was struggling to make his brain comply through the haze of lust that had taken over. Leaning back, Anders basked in the feeling of the warrior’s strong hand pumping back and forth over his cock as he waited. Fenris seemed to know just how to squeeze and tug to cause Anders to melt.

As the warrior’s thumb swiped over the slit of the mage’s cock, Fenris lifted his gaze and met Anders’s eyes. “Let me make love to you?”

_How can I deny such a sweet request_ , Anders thought with a smile as he pulled Fenris down by his hair for a heated kiss. The warrior let out a soft moan at the feeling as he slid his fingers down past the mage’s balls to slowly drag over and around the tight ring of muscle. Anders shuddered under him and whispered his name. Fenris kissed down the mage’s body, taking his time to lick and suck on the mage’s nipples as he gently teased him. 

“Fenris, please. _Please_.”

Fenris looked up from his position by the mage’s cock to see Anders’s eyes half-lidded and gazing down at him with pure _want_. It was an expression Fenris never wanted to forget.

He began kissing and marking the mage’s inner thighs as he slowly pushed a finger into Anders. The warrior’s lips lifted into a smile at the shudder Anders gave at the sensation. Taking himself in hand, Fenris slowly jerked himself off with his free hand as he fingered Anders. The mage was so tight. The feeling was making Fenris’s mind swim.

"You feel so good for me."

Anders moaned upon hearing the words. Soon the mage was ready for two fingers and Fenris took his time in pleasuring his beloved.

“Come up here and kiss me.”

Fenris chuckled at the impatient request as he stretched his lithe body over the mage’s to kiss him deeply. His fingers stretched and worked Anders, readying him for his cock.

“So needy.”

Anders opened his mouth to give some snarky reply but Fenris quickly kissed him again, cutting off whatever the mage was going to say. He quickened his pace and had to pin the mage’s hips down with his free hand to prevent Anders from driving him deeper. The mage groaned in frustration as Fenris repeatedly missed his spot. Seeing his mage in a state of sexual frustration merely caused Fenris to give a dark, throaty chuckle.

“Fenris, I swear on all that is holy –”

“I bet Andraste herself wishes she were in your place right now,” Fenris whispered huskily as he leaned down to give a few kisses to the mage’s bare shoulder. “I never realized how many freckles you have. I could spend hours tracing the constellations of your skin with my lips.”

Anders groaned at the cheesiness of it but his blush betrayed him. A quick tilt of Fenris’s fingers had the mage seeing stars as Fenris _finally_ hit his spot.

“Fenris, Fenris, yes, Fenris –”

The warrior chuckled again as he pressed his forehead once again against Anders’s. With how much he had talked during their shared time in Kirkwall, Fenris should have known Anders would be equally as vocal in bed.

Fenris pulled out his fingers and immediately Anders groaned in protest.

“Better things are coming,” Fenris promised as he leaned back to press a long kiss to each of the mage’s knees. Lifting Anders’s long legs up and to the sides, Fenris settled in between them and took himself back in hand. Meeting the mage’s heated gaze, Fenris asked earnestly, “Are you sure?”

“Fuck me,” Anders whispered.

Fenris lined his cock up and held the mage’s legs apart as he slowly pushed the head of his cock into the mage. Watching the mage’s face for any sign of pain, Fenris waited a few moments before slowly sliding in deeper. It wasn’t until he had bottomed out that Anders released the breath he had been holding.

“How do you feel?”

Anders answered the warrior’s question by slowly pushing the warrior out of him and then sliding back down onto that thick cock.

Their shared moans ricocheted off the walls of the office and drummed loudly in their ears. Anders mentally thanked his past self for sound-proofing the office. Fenris began a slow and steady rhythm of pulling out of Anders and sliding back in, fucking him slowly and deeply. The doctor adored it. Sweat began to drip off of the warrior’s forehead and down his bangs onto the doctor’s skin. It felt like a gentle, sensual rainfall. Anders fell in love with the feeling.

As the mage’s moans became a steady occurrence, Fenris began speeding up his rhythm. He would slowly pull out of the mage only to snap his hips forward and piston deeply into Anders. Fenris wanted to keep his eyes open and watch every shudder that surged through the mage but he felt his eyes closing out of pleasure more than once. Soon his orgasm was building. Fenris could feel it low in his gut and, surprisingly, in the deep recesses of his brandings.

As Fenris held his legs apart, Anders took his cock in his hand and quickly began jerking himself.

“Don’t stop. Fenris, please, don’t stop, don’t stop, Fenris, Fen –”

“I’m close,” Fenris gritted out as he fucked Anders with abandon.

Anders reached up with his free hand and sharply raked his nails down the back of the warrior’s neck. Fenris shuddered as he felt his orgasm get closer.

“Anders –”

“Come for me, Fenris.”

Hearing Anders ask him that _like that_ did him in. The mage’s name was ripped from his lips as Fenris reached his peak. He fucked in and out of Anders a total of four times before his cock was fully spent inside the mage. Feeling the warrior’s cum fill him caused Anders to climax and the doctor cried out as his own cum dribbled onto Fenris’s chest and stomach. They lay frozen, breathing heavily, as they came down from their respective highs. Fenris and Anders kissed one another deeply for a few moments before Fenris slowly pulled completely out of Anders. The mage winced at the motion but wasted no time in pulling Fenris on top of him to wrap his long limbs around the warrior and hold him close. They stayed like that for what felt like hours.

“We should clean ourselves,” Fenris muttered, making no move to pull away.

Anders twisted his neck so that he could burrow his face into the elf’s neck. “Not yet.”

Fenris gave an annoyed huff but the sweetest smile graced his lips as he shifted so that they could each rest on their sides, tucked into each other. Wrapping his arm around the mage, Fenris held him tightly and enjoyed the haziness of sleep that threatened to overcome him. A twitch of skin against his stomach caused him to look down and see that Anders was sporting a semi.

“Seriously?”

“Warden stamina,” Anders replied with an embarrassed laugh as he leaned down and kissed Fenris again.


	22. Lies Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

Dawn.

Fenris awoke to the feeling of a strong, muscled back pressed against his chest. Blinking his eyes open sluggishly, Fenris took in the sight of autumn-colored hair tickling his nose. As the memories of last night came back to him, Fenris inhaled the sweet scent of his lover. The mage’s hair stirred slightly. The smell of sex lingered in the air. Fenris didn’t want to move. Instead, he held the doctor closer to him and buried his face deeper into the mage’s hair. Despite the fact that Anders was taller than him, Fenris could not help but love being the big spoon. His half-hardened cock nestled snugly between the doctor’s cheeks. Giving in to temptation, Fenris kissed a slow and gentle line down the back of the mage’s neck. Anders shuddered beneath him and sleepily turned over to face the warrior. The mage’s eyelids were still heavy with sleep and when he spoke, his voice was layered with gravel.

“Good morning, Fenris.”

_Oh Maker._ The sound of the mage’s sleepy voice immediately went to the warrior’s cock, heat pooling low in Fenris’s gut. Despite all that had happened last night, Fenris worried momentarily that he wasn’t allowed to touch Anders. Slowly he lifted his fingers and hesitantly carded them through the mage’s hair. Anders gave him the softest smile in return and leaned into the touch with a pleasant hum. Feeling emboldened, Fenris stroked through his lover’s hair, feeling the softness against his fingers, and reveled in the sensation. Their eyes met. Anders leaned in first and kissed Fenris.

The sensation sent a thrill of happiness through Fenris. The gesture was so soft and sweet – he wondered how he deserved such gentleness. They stayed like that for a bit, kissing lazily and gently, before Fenris shifted and accidentally brushed his leg against the mage’s hardness. Anders gave a soft moan before freezing.

Fenris seemed to freeze too but Anders kissed him on the cheek and said, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything this morning.”

And Fenris knew it. He knew that Anders would never push him. But he _wanted_ a repeat performance of last night. Fenris _wanted_ Anders. And, deep down, he knew he would want the mage for the rest of his life.

Fenris tentatively leaned in and kissed Anders again for a bit before turning it dirty. His tongue snaked into the mage’s mouth. Morning breath wasn’t as big of an issue as Fenris had half-suspected it to be. Anders seemed appreciative of the action and gently cupped Fenris’s face as they kissed. Realizing that Anders was waiting for him to go further at his own leisure, Fenris made the second move of the morning as he pushed Anders back and straddled him. He gave the mage a mischievous smirk before giving a sharp motion of his hips that brushed his cock against the mage’s. Anders gasped and Fenris slowly raked his nails up and down the doctor’s naked chest. They had slept bare so there was no need to waste time in removing clothing.

There were no words said between them. Nothing needed to be said. Anders looked up from half-lidded eyes and saw the pure _want_ looking back at him. Fenris took his time to feel up and down the mage’s body, teasing Anders so thoroughly that the doctor suspected more than once that he would cum without Fenris ever touching his dick. Fenris felt exhilarated in his exploration of Anders’s body. It wasn’t long before the warrior had reduced Anders to a heavily panting, begging mess.

“Fen, Fenris, _please_. Want you. Need you –”

Fenris looked up from where he had buried his tongue deep into the mage. The sight and sensation wracked Anders with pleasure and he could feel his climax building. Fenris worked his tongue out of the mage and pulled his body up so that he could leave dark marks on the mage’s neck over the ones he had left the night before. Their cocks slid together and Anders moaned lasciviously as he worked his talented hands over them both. Fenris kissed him then and didn’t break away.

Anders wondered if he was still in the Fade, dreaming about them doing just this. It wasn’t until Fenris pulled his cock away to cover it in a fresh coating of lube and slide it against the mage’s entrance that Anders knew he was awake. As Fenris pushed into him, the mage let out a moan so beautiful that Fenris wished he could hear it every morning. Maybe, after all of this, he could.

When they spilled their seed for a second time in less than 24 hours, Fenris slumped against Anders and peppered his shoulder with light kisses.

Breathing heavily, Anders wrapped his arms around the warrior and held Fenris close to him. After a few moments, he whispered, “Are you sure you’re not a mage? Because that was _magical_.”

Rolling his eyes and groaning harshly at the pun, Fenris tried to roll out of the mage’s grasp only to have Anders chuckle and pull him back to him.

“I assure you that were I a mage there wouldn’t be a single magister left in this world.”

Anders giggled – he couldn’t really fathom why, but he did. Nuzzling his face against Fenris’s neck, Anders beamed. He couldn’t remember being this content in a long time. No, the word _content_ didn’t quite cover it. Anders was…happy. He was truly and positively happy here with Fenris in his arms.

Fenris slowly slid out of the mage and grinned down at Anders with his own wonderful smile. “Have I pleased you?”

Anders chuckled at the warrior’s question and leaned in to rest their foreheads together. Kissing Fenris’s lips, he replied back warmly, “You do more than please me. In a way, you complete me, Fenris.”

Fenris felt his heart pound wildly in his chest at the words. He had never felt like this before. Sure, he had felt used, wanted, needed, and cared for, but he had never felt…whole. Anders made him feel that way. A mage made him feel that way.

Fenris closed his eyes and kissed Anders. It was chaste and sweet but full of promises. Promises Fenris wasn’t sure he knew how to verbally say or how to keep. But he wanted to try. He wanted to be a better person. Anders inspired him to be a better person.

Hawke would be so happy.

**XXXXX**

Soon after their second tryst, they bathed and dressed, preparing for the day ahead. Fenris needed a few more tests and examinations, but soon he would be ready to return to the field. The knowledge lingered in the air between them throughout the following days. When Fenris was finally, _finally_ cleared to return to battle, Anders stood before him in the hospital room Fenris had been confined to for the past few months.

“I won’t get super mushy on you, but I do have something for you,” Anders started, reaching into his robes and pulling out a small, purple crystal. “Harding sent it over after I told her of our… _ahem_ …relations. She’s very excited for us, by the way. It’s so that we can keep in touch.”

“I’m glad you two have rekindled things,” Fenris said, taking the crystal and looking it over. “She is very dear to me.”

“And to me as well.” Anders took a breath as he watched Fenris look it over. “Do you like it?”

“This is smart. I am glad I will not have to rely on coded letters to hear from you.”

“At the cost of sounding sappy, I will miss you, Fenris. Please be careful out there.”

Fenris looked up into the mage’s eyes and kissed him deeply. Pulling away, the warrior whispered, “I will return to you.”

Anders smiled and wished him well. They hadn’t talked too much about their relationship but Anders didn’t have to question what he meant to Fenris. It was evident in the warrior’s eyes.

**XXXXXX**

Anders didn’t watch Fenris leave the hospital with an entourage sent by Cullen. Instead, he busied himself in his work. The hours turned into days and before long, Anders realized that Fenris had been gone for a week. The mage thought about Fenris in every free moment and at night as he rested on his cot. He didn't visit the room Fenris had occupied. He kept to his work and his patients. Despite his worry for the elf’s safety, thoughts of Fenris caused him to smile.

Anders was in love.

**XXXXXX**

In the first two weeks Fenris was away, Justice announced to Anders that he believed it was time to try and resend Justice to the Fade where he belonged.

“I HAVE ASSISTED YOU IN ACCOMPLISHING MUCH JUSTICE IN THIS WORLD. THEREFORE, I BELIEVE THAT IT IS TIME WE TRY AGAIN TO RETURN ME TO THE FADE.”

Anders could not, in good conscience, disagree with him. Justice had spent over fifteen years in this world at the mage’s side or in his head. Still, it was difficult for Anders to come to terms with the idea of the spirit’s departure. Justice had been with him through so much over the years that he really seemed to still be a part of Anders. The mage voiced as much to the spirit one evening in the library.

“I WILL MISS YOU, MY FRIEND, BUT I AM WEARY AND NEED TO RETURN TO THE FADE. YOU KNOW THIS.”

And Anders did.

**XXXXXX**

The mage spent the next week devoted to studying and perfecting the delivery of the spell that would return Justice to the Fade. Anders was weary of making the same mistake as last time. When he was sure he was ready, he stood before his furry companion in the library some days later.

“Are you ready, Justice?”

“I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY FOR MANY YEARS,” Justice said not unkindly. “YOU HAVE BEEN AN INVALUABLE ALLY AND FRIEND.”

Anders felt a lump in his throat. Pulling the cat into his arms, Anders held him tightly for a moment, burying his face into the cat’s fur. “I will miss you very much.”

“MAKER WATCH OVER YOU, ANDERS.”

Steeling himself, Anders let Justice go and took a few breaths to compose himself. When he felt he was ready, he spoke clearly and listened to the sound of his voice echo throughout the otherwise empty room as he recited the spell. A faint, greenish glow surrounded Justice and slowly transformed the cat’s body into the distantly familiar form of the human Justice had embodied when he first joined the Warden-Commander. It had been so long since Anders had seen that bald, ghoulish figure and the sight momentarily caused him to falter in his recitation.

Justice looked down at himself and seemed to recognize the old form, smiling broadly at Anders. “KEEP GOING, MY FRIEND. IT IS WORKING!”

Anders smiled in return and finished the spell. This time, the greenish glow of the Fade shined brightly and fully-encompassed Justice. As the room glowed and Anders was forced to close his eyes against the brightness, he heard the spirit’s booming voice.

“THANK YOU, ANDERS. MAY THE MAKER WATCH OVER YOU.”

When the light faded, Anders opened his eyes and looked around.

Justice was gone.

Feeling the tears escape, Anders couldn’t help but smile through it.

“Farewell, my dearest friend. Thank you...for everything.” Placing a hand over his heart, Anders whispered to the empty room, “In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.”

**XXXXXX**

Anders and Fenris communicated at least twice a week in the time that followed the spirit’s departure to the Fade. News of Solas’s defeat reached Anders both through Fenris and through gossip from his patients. The Inquisitor had killed the god and handed the elf’s body over to the Dalish so that magic could keep the god’s soul from returning to this world. The Tevinter-Qunari Wars were ended in a peace treaty implemented by the new Archon, but all of Thedas wondered how long that would last for. The Inquisitor had expanded her influence in Tevinter and Seheron. Many wondered whether she would try and conquer all of Thedas, though she and those closest to her insisted that the Inquisition would remain a peace-keeping entity without ambitious intentions.

With Fenris back at the helm of things, nearly all slavers in Tevinter were either captured, killed, or willingly chose to surrender their slaves. With the help of Dorian and Maevaris, the new Archon managed to win over the majority of the Magisterium through bribery or blackmail and disbanded slavery in the Imperium. New laws were created to help supply jobs and homes for the former slaves. Many of them left Tevinter in search of family members. Some even joined the Inquisition. Change had been declared and though there was a great deal of resistance, the Inquisitor, Dorian, and the Archon remained optimistic. With the destruction of slavery, Tevinter was forced to open free, legal trade with the rest of Thedas. Unsurprisingly, the first allies the Archon made was with the King and Queen of Fereldan. Alistair and his wife journeyed to Tevinter themselves to greet and welcome the alliance with the Archon. If the Archon somehow found his way into their marriage bed, no one said a word about it.

The Qunari were granted ownership and occupancy of Seheron. The Inquisition continued to monitor them in case any fighting broke out or the Qunari planned on another invasion, but for many months, the Qunari were quiet. It wouldn’t be until Iron Bull came to the Inquisitor some months later and announced of a secret Qunari plan to assassinate the Archon that things heated up again. But that was a problem to deal with another day.

**XXXXX**

A few months after the elf’s departure from the hospital, Fenris informed Anders one night via crystal that he would be returning to Thekla Clinic. Cullen had ordered Fenris to take some time off and celebrate their victory in freeing the slaves. Fenris had wanted to keep working but Cullen had insisted. So, it was a blustery wintry day when Fenris arrived at Thekla Clinic, dressed snugly in warm armor. He made his way through the hallways and to the doctor’s door, pausing only to knock before entering. Fenris had barely gotten the door open before Anders had wrapped his arms around Fenris and pulled him closely against him.

Chuckling, Fenris kicked the door closed behind him and wasted no time in pinning Anders against it, kissing him deeply.

“Missed you,” Anders whispered against his lips.

“I missed you as well,” Fenris replied before kissing the mage.

**XXXXX**

One morning when they both lay on the cot in the doctor’s office facing the new day, Fenris cleared his throat slightly. He knew what he wanted to say but he was afraid. Being in love made a person vulnerable and Fenris wasn’t sure he was ready. But he _needed_ to ask.

“Hawke tells me that there is a cottage about half a mile from here. It has been abandoned but seems to be in relatively stable shape. Tevinter law now allows for anyone to purchase it and call it theirs because it has been abandoned and not yet taken over by the state. It would be close enough to the hospital that you could come here for emergency calls but not have to live here, in the hospital.”

Anders, who had been lazily stroking his thumb against the elf’s face without a serious thought in the world, paused in his movement. The breath seemed to have been knocked from his lungs as he processed what Fenris had said. He hadn’t been expecting such a serious conversation.

The elf didn’t give him any time to fully react before plowing on with, “It is well-fortified for a cottage and Hawke assured me that there are protection runes we could install in its walls so that the Seekers or Wardens or Templars would never be able to bother you should they discover your location. Neither of us should be made to feel like a prisoner there.”

“Fenris, what are you asking?” Anders knew what Fenris was asking but he had to be sure he understood and that Fenris _meant_ what he was asking.

The elf didn’t want to meet the mage’s gaze in case Anders said no. Anders gently moved his hand down to cup Fenris’s chin and lift the warrior’s gaze to meet his. Taking a breath, Fenris steeled himself to confess, “I thought perhaps that you would be ready to have a home of your own. A place that you could feel safe in and…and be with me in.”

“Would _you_ like that?” Anders whispered.

Fenris felt his breath catch as he nodded. “I would like us to live together.”

Anders didn’t realize he was crying until he felt Fenris gently wipe away his tears. Leaning in, Anders kissed Fenris and it was several long moments before the mage could gather his wits together enough to reply, “Living with you would be the most wonderful thing in this world. I love you, Fenris.”

“I am yours, my beloved mage.”

**XXXXX**

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have taken the time to read this story and journey with Fenris and Anders on this adventure together. I have sincerely treasured each and every review you have given this story. Thank you for your kudos, your time, and your joy. I hope that you enjoy this ending and find it as bittersweet and adorable as I did when writing it. As always, please leave a review and follow me for more adventures! You can find me on tumblr at swankaliciouschekov.tumblr.com if you wish to submit me story prompts or to talk with me about this fic (or Dragon Age in general).   
> Ma serannas.  
> -Swankyturnip76


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